Superman: The Age of Superheroes 1938 to tomorrow
by SuperCharles
Summary: Active Again. 1943 The Heroes return to a World at War. Black Magic, The Cult of the Crimson Flame in DC, intrigue in N.Africa, with guest star Liberty Bell joining Lois in Casablanca. Superman joins Dr Fate on the Eastern Front. Ares Rises - Wotan plans
1. Chapter 1

Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.  
Superman and associated characters are trademarks of DC Comics.

Thank you for stopping by, and thanks for reading this story. Please feel free to let me know what you think - I like mail!

**A Brief Introduction.**

This story - 'Superman: The Age of Superheroes 1938 to tomorrow' began accidentally. While I'd already developed an idea for an epic tale of how a period Superman could become our Superman of the twenty first century, I hadn't committed to writing it.

Chapter one was really an exercise in creativity. I wanted to 'turn up the volume' on Jerry Siegel's original origin for Superman - to make it more contemporary, while remaining true to the spirit of his mythology.

That quest to recapture the verve of the gritty Superman of those early years led me back to the source material and the history of the time, and there was something that felt right about starting where it all began. So I did.

Chapters 2-14 deal with the years before 1938, and are really snap shot - shorts - that form part of an extended 'Smallville' prologue to set the scene. Most of this will be familiar, some moments are lifts directly from the original comics. What follows is a retelling of Action/Superman #1 in my own style. For there I go my own way, although I take inspiration and characters, and broad story ideas from the period comics. I've also tried where I can to weave real world history into the story, so in this way this is in it's own way an alternative history fiction.

From the reviews.

"The story itself is incredible. I know a lot about Superman's history, and you have united it masterfully. Its a real treat to see the name of a minor character that, at first, I think is an original creation of yours, go to this one comic book website, type in the name, and realise that you actually based him/her/it on an actual golden-age character. Every chapter is a treat. Even chapter that were light on action had something new that kept me reading. I was shouting in my head "I knew it!" when the Ultra-Humanite was revealed to be the first supervillian. I smiled when you found a logical way to include Krypto. I was surprised when what I thought was going to be ***** turned out to be ***** (with one l). Finally, I nearly clapped my hands when the Justice Society of America first came together." - scifidude

* * *

**Attention Grabbing Excerpt**

( If the following scene appears as familiar - and I hope it does - it is inspired by the comic book frame immortalised as the iconic Action #1 Cover - the 1938 debut of Superman)

Superman grabbed the bumper of the car, sliding behind the Cadillac for a brief second before snatching the auto's driving wheels clear of the pavement, then he began braking the speeding vehicle, his boots sliding along the road surface, bringing the sedan to an abrupt stop – while pulling the car to himself.

Superman tipped the car up further, shifting his grip he tossed the car over his head and grabbing hold of the spinning prop Superman tore the drive shaft clear. The powerless rear wheels span on steadily slowing.

Balancing the town-car and its seven occupants over his head Superman flips the vehicle over onto its side.

One hand now taking the strain his fingers sink into the body work; with the other free hand Superman tears the doors off the big sedan while shaking the auto. The gangsters fall tumbling to the ground.

Then with a nonchalant toss Superman drives the expensive limousine into the ground. Butch's chrome crumples as the engine smashes into the empty cabin.

* * *

Special acknowledgements:

Freeman Dyson – Dyson imagined a uniform solid shell of matter around the star; 'Dyson Sphere' - such a structure would completely alter the emissions of the central star, and would intercept 100 percent of the star's energy output. Dyson speculated that such structures would be the logical consequence of the long-term survival and escalating energy needs of a technological civilization.

Dedicated to America's Greatest Generation.  
Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster – fathers of modern mythology.

* * *

_"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. " Arthur C. Clarke_

* * *

Prologue : Chapter One

Part One : An Alien, An Illegal Alien. A Kryptonian in Kansas : Chapters 2-14

Part Two : An Alien, An Illegal Alien. A Kyptonian in Metropolis : Chapters 15-44

Part Three : An Alien, A Legal Alien. A Kryptonian American at War : Chapters 44-

* * *

**Introduction**

Ah Gentle reader! I bid you welcome to my tall tale.

It is said the universe is _not _greater than we imagine, but that the universe is greater than we _can _imagine.

So I begin this story by boldly challenging you to imagine a reality that is even more incredible than our own singular universe.

Countless stars together make a Galaxy. Countless Galaxies together make our Universe.

It is said, can a person count the grains of sand on the beach? Could anyone number the stars in the cosmos?

And yet I ask you to imagine what theoretical Physics calls the meta-universe.

For it is science that imagines not just our one great Universe - filled with countless galaxies, containing countless stars, but an infinite number of such universes. Together these make something unimaginably vast – the Multiverse!

These infinitely different universes are sometimes called parallel realities. Realities where time unfolds differently, where unique worlds come into existence; vast universes birthed from chaos, living and dying, time and time again.

The story of Ace of Action, the Metropolis Marvel, the Man of Tomorrow, the Man of Steel, the first and greatest of the super hero's of the modern age begins in such parallel reality.

This is Superman's story, and it begins with a star called Rao.

**Prologue: Krypton.**

A bright and brilliant star, young Rao burns in the crowded heavens of an already ancient universe.

Aeons pass, life emerges.

Great Rao burns on, now a captive of meta-human industry.

Jor-El watches Krypton.

Krypton is more than a world, it is an artifact. His people; a race of Supermen long ago broke apart the fabric of the planetary bodies that orbited Rao; an entire solar system shattered and pounded into dust. From this chaos the House of El had overseen the construction of Krypton. An artificial sphere, a machine that contained a sun.

Krypton – a technological marvel, whose interior was bathed in all the vast energies of Rao.

From space – from a distance, only a deep red glow seeped through the relatively thin skin of the sphere, other intelligences came to call Krypton the great Red Star.

Jor-El observes the ancient mega-structure, now a living mausoleum.

He sees through the Red Star and onto Krypton's huge interior surface; millions of times larger than any comparable natural world. Great continental landmasses and mega-oceans teem with all manner of imported life, save one. Gone are the demi-gods who built this world star.

Kryptonians were no longer limited mortal beings.

Jor-El's thoughts instantly crossed the vast expanse of space, watching the contracting and collapsing cosmos, dark matter sucking the ancient stars back to the universes centre, collapsing galaxies fall back into a vast black hole and destruction.

His was just one of countless universes within the Metaverse. This singular universe was already dying long long before the vast artifice that was Krypton's construction; collapsing even as Jor-El's most distant single celled ancestors emerged as life; but time is relative, and even in the twilight age of this doomed universe, there had to be time enough for miracles.

Lara! His consciousness reached out for her. His wife, his beloved Lara had begun their first golden age. They had conquered death, almost. Her mastery of biology had given them many centuries of healthy vibrant life; but even that was not enough.

Accident, chance, disaster, they still ruled in these ancient times. Lara was not satisfied with just extending life; but perfecting it. She and her disciples eventually rewrote even these rules. Their race became stronger, tougher, eventually invulnerable to disaster, calamity and disease.

Science had given them mastery of the stars by capturing the energy of light itself in their very cells, they shrugged off the ancient metal carcasses, the alloy boxes which had limited them, and with their hands holding the tools of their own invention this race of Supermen built themselves a new home, a citadel worthy of gods, Krypton.

Yet even these newly modified, customised, and magnificently powerful beings were yet flesh and blood, they had changed the rules, but the game was still the same. Even Supermen must die.

The House of El. The architect's of Krypton; first among them was Jor-El, who discovered an answer, and then over many millennia mastered the Phantom Zone, using the great engine that was Krypton to control and open up undreamed of possibilities.

Rao's power utilised through super science to transform each one of them, making them gods among the stars, no longer limited by material bodies, they crossed over into the Phantom Zone. Here a single thought could span the cosmos instantly, here time and space were subject to their will; and Krypton made this possible.

Kyrpton was the bridge between the Phantom Zone and normal space. It was the vast spherical machine that gave their thoughts substance in the real world; taking raw energy and turning into any kind of matter at their wish, the universe was now theirs; and so it this was the greatest and most glorious kryptonian ages began - but the end of the game remained the same, because even Universes die.

With all their great powers of science and invention even the Kryptonians could not halt their universe's accelerating collapse, a process long established before even life had evolved. Galaxies tumbling back to the centre, ultimately to end as an all encompassing black hole singularity. Perhaps if they had come to power in a young universe it would have been different.

Jor-El drew closer to his beloved. "The Council of Krypton has ruled against us – our plan to cross the great void. Our brethren are weary Lara, this universe holds no mysteries; they are resigned to our collective fate."

"My beloved; when the great bridge between the Phantom Zone and Space time is broken, we will finally die."

Jor-El embraced his wife. "My love your plans to recreate our mortal forms are incredible but the Council knows how much we have all evolved beyond the limits of a material body; flesh and blood cannot contain our intelligences; such a machine would be a prison to us - they cannot go back."

"And yet darling there is so much beyond known space and time, there are other universes, young vibrant and emerging, unknown and new."

Lara the fault is mine. The same technology that made us masters of this universe now traps us here; condemns us to it's fate, and that is _my_ doing, that has been the price of our divinity.

"To begin again, to live and breath, to be meat and bones, would you have me cripple your intellect?

"Darling which memories would you edit from your eons of life – how could you be the same person I have loved for these last millennia when you are reduced to the confines of a single human mind?"

Lara touched his consciousness stirring his memories of the distant mortal past. "Death. Once our people feared it, strove to escape it, and yet is death has become the only unknown – the last mystery; the last great adventure."

"We all have lived so very long." Lara replied. "Is it so surprising we are tired of this life?

"And who knows what will happen when Rao dies, when the bridge between the Phantom Zone and space-time burns? It a seductive question - what lies beyond the veil of death?"

"Perhaps nothing - Perhaps everything." Jor-El returned his gaze to Krypton's Red Star tumbling towards the centre and oblivion. "Soon it will be over."

Lara. Her consciousness now touched his. "Jor-El" she embraced him. It was a kiss. A kiss that lasted a lifetime. She became all and everything to him, their minds had long ago become more than biology, more than technology – they existed in their own conjoined reality – with more substance, more intensity, and more intimacy than mere flesh and blood could dream of. Centuries passed between them – such was the urgency of their plight, there was a scarce few millennia before Krypton died, destroyed – a consequence of the cataclysmic death throws of this ancient universe; only centuries before they and all their kind would cease to exist in the physical world of their birth.

Lara the author of their advanced biology, it was fitting that Lara would come to him to give birth to Kyrpton's future. Together they engaged the great planet engine one last time. In moments their union was given substance, from thought by energy to matter.

We are complete. It was their common thought.

The first child to be conceived in many millennia was born, their child, Krypton's last Son.

"Kal-El"

"We cannot leave Krypton; we cannot escape the fate of this our universe, because we have become so much more than we were, we are Krypton."

"You Kal-El. You will live. Everything else that is of Krypton will die, but you are unique among us, you alone are able to cross the last great threshold, you will pass from death into life. You will journey through the infinite dimensions and sample countless possibilities; until you find a new world, a home and people as we once were – a family of flesh and blood where you can grow and learn, where you can live and know love."

"You are Krypton's last and greatest son – in you Krypton will live on."

The craft sped away, cradled within lay Kal-El's fragile infant consciousness. As a baby his mind was unburdened by the countless memories of an unimaginably long life; instead Kal-El was blessed with the boundless opportunity to live and grow, to remember and learn; to evolve.

Behind him Krypton shattered and burned, further away sped the craft – faster, along a predetermined trajectory taking him to the edge of reality. The universe died around the vessel, but Jor-El's last great invention engaged at this terrible moment.

An incredible Phantomic engine erupted into life punching Kal-El's crib through the barrier between the divergent universes.

Among myriad dimensions and countless variables the craft sought out an improbable outcome; a new younger universe, a universe with life – life that had against all odds had arisen to become humane and human.

Kal-El's inter dimensional ship surfed along cascading realities, a tiny life boat upon a river of divergent possibilities the independently intelligent machine scanned successive universes, individual galaxies therein, searching for Stars with habitable planets, seeking among these a world, any world of flesh and blood, a kindred people.

Countless examples of life were examined and found wanting; all the time seeking sentient beings to compare to the template Lara had determined, each potential candidate measured against a mother's demands, each was found wanting – always just too different, too alien, too incompatible with her vision.

The Craft sped on seeking an ideal, universe after universe.

Lara's program sought out men and women whose features mirrored the mortal bodies she had so long ago transformed and evolved. Her motives were simple, primal, Lara wanted her son to be loved, and know love, to grow and mature as she and her beloved husband Jor-El had lived in that distant age - as the last mortal generation of their people. Lara wanted their son to evolve into his heritage – and that required an unique set of parameters – a peculiar planet, a peculiar people.

He would not need tools, or machines to thrive, a primitive uncivilised world would be immaterial – technological advancement no advantage. Lara had crafted a unique physiology to keep Kal-El safe from any conceivable material harm, but she knew their son would need companionship for his heart and soul. Their child needed a family and a home. His adoptive parents wouldn't be Kyrptonian, but they would be as close as Lara could get.


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan Kent was a worried man this night. Martha was sitting quietly. She wasn't saying a word. The trucks transmission was making a odd noise, and he didn't like it; not one bit.

Martha was crying. Jonathan knew it was his fault. She wanted a child, he couldn't mend that, make that happen. Sure he wasn't a Rockefeller, or a Wayne, he was a hayseed, a farmer, working with own his hands, the earth itself, and he knew there were things even riches couldn't buy.

Martha was a worried woman. Jonathan looked so stern, framed by the night sky, lit only by reflection of their trucks headlights from road surface.

"I'm sorry." She said. Her tears wetting her cheeks in the darkness, her voice cracked.

"I love you Martha, you've nothing to be sorry about."

"I'm a barren field Jonathan Kent."

"My mother had no business saying that." Jonathan replied. "Even if today was – I mean would have been our Tom's birthday, if he'd lived." he sighed heavily. "Blast you Tom, you was always a hothead."

"Tom was a good brother to you Jonathan. He always looked out for you, and did right by people; didn't he tell you to hurry up and ask me to that dance."

Jonathan smiled as he remembered their first date.

"Truth is Pa Kent started Tom dreaming – those stories of his times with Teddy Roosevelt in that Cuban War - and you know it."

Jonathan frowned, but he didn't deny Matha's observation.

"He just shouldn't have gone to fight in that damn war. Europe's always been nothing but trouble."

"And you should have married a proper country girl, not me, not one of _the_ Clark girls, with those fancy ideas, fancy city ways and all that pointless education."

Martha cried quietly some more.

Jonathan rested his hand on the selector, maybe the vibration wasn't any worse, maybe it was his imagination.

"I would marry you again, and twice over, knowing all I know now, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment Martha, not one second." He said.

Jonathan squinted.

"Boy there's some jalopy with sooped up headlights coming this away - blast I can hardly see." He held up his hand and peered at the blinding light ahead. Braking Kent brought the Ford Model T flat-bed to a slow but inevitable stop, as he drew closer he realised that brilliance ahead wasn't an auto, or any other kind of vehicle he recognised, and if it had been moving, it wasn't any more.

The Ford drew to a halt, a yard or so ahead the Kents could see a bright luminescent globe, it's brilliance appeared to be waning, it blocked their path, straddling the middle of the road.

Jonathan opened the truck door and grabbed his pistol from beneath the seat, stepping out onto the pavement.

"Get back Matha!"

The globe hovered a foot or so above the road, now no brighter than the trucks lights, it seemed to shimmer like water – primarily a metallic blue, a swash of red top and bottom and bright yellow band girded the globes circumference.

Martha stood beside the pickup. " Is it a balloon?" she asked.

"Perhaps. It sure floats like a balloon." Her husband answered.

Martha ever independently minded ignored his fussing and joined him. "do you think it's a military balloon – maybe from McConnell?"

Jonathan looked at the globe shaped object. "I don't know, maybe, it's just hovering – no sign of how it's doing that, no sound, or anything; but the body of it looks metallic. it's strange – very strange."

A crest appeared on the surface of the alien craft. A shield; a single bold motif in red and yellow faced them, it appeared to Jonathan to be a random pattern of red shapes on a yellow background edged by red.

"what's with the S?" Martha asked.

Jonathan looked again, yes he thought, the shield could indeed be a highly stylised S.

As he leaned forward the craft changed shape, something akin to canopy retracted.

Two figures appeared shimmering into existence before the sphere.

The Kent's gasped.

Two spoke in unison.

"Greetings – We are Jor-El and Lara. We lived long ago on a distant planet called Kyrpton." Incredibly blue on blue eyes looked outwards, not directly at but past and beyond the Kents. He had short masculine black hair, her hair cascaded across her shoulders golden like the sun.

Glowing and other worldly, this man and woman held each other in a comfortable side by side embrace, they hung in the air, floating ethereal, not quite tangible, unreal.

Both dressed in blue, long red cloaks fell to the floor around their booted feet, both wore the same stylised shield on their chests. He had red belted trunks, she a long pleated skirt, both wore leggings.

"This is a letter from us, we are sorry our words must appear strange to your ears; but our words were spoken long long ago in a different language to yours. This - the machine you see today – is making our Kyrptonian words like your words so you can understand this our last recording."

"You're not real?" Martha gasped.

Jonathan considered this the aliens spoke English well enough, but it did seem imperfect; translated. Understandable - they were from another planet. He found the idea incredible, but his eyes told him it was true. He pointed his gun at both the beings, and the machine behind them. Thinking, these aliens must have been watching us for some time to have already to learned English, at least they were human, at least their command of English wasn't perfect, this reassured him, they weren't all powerful - but still Jonathan feared what they might want.

Lara spoke.

"We are long dead, this is a recording, a memory of who we were."

Jor-El in turn said.

"We are projections like your moving pictures."

"Yet you can answer questions, no movie I've heard of can do that?" Jonathan demanded, this seemed more like magic than science to him.

Jor-El replied. "We made many many recordings, and placed them inside this machine. This machine is able to pick and choose from our many words and answer you. Our answers are chosen so you can understand us - and not fear us. There is much we cannot explain to you in your language. There are truths - sciences your people have not yet learned about."

"Your weapons can not harm us – and we mean you no harm." Lara said. "Please we do not mean you harm. Please do not fear us."

Jonathan was not convinced by the strange apparitions assurances. "Is this ball your spaceship?" He asked. It seemed wrong to him, he imagined a spacecraft to be something large like an airship or a locomotive, and yet the glowing sphere was small enough to fit on the back of his truck.

Jor-El replied. "This is all that remains. All that is left."

"There is more?"

"There was. It is gone now. It could not come down to the ground."

Jonathan frowned - he wondered was this ball like a dinghy or even a lifeboat? Could he trust this Jor-El, perhaps there was a big ship above them hovering out of sight, perhaps an invasion fleet.

"As a mother I have made a letter to you." Lara began.

"This is our son, he is the last survivor of our people, we died when our world died, but we were able to save our baby. We sent him into outer space – and made this machine to find good people – a people like us - who would care for him."

In Lara's arms a child emerged from beneath her cloak; a newborn yet clothed in a suit not unlike his fathers.

"Please will you take our child." Jor-El asked.

"Please as a dead mother's last request, take care of our boy."

There words seem to convey real emotion – human desperation. Suddenly the bizarre situation began to make sense. These were desperate people trying to save their child.

Jonathan saw this touched his wife deeply. Martha stepped closer, her maternal instinct strong. He shared in her pain and loss, and understood her deep longing for motherhood.

Even Jonathan with all his doubts and fears felt primal compassion, seeing the babe kicking in his mothers outstretched hands, he was moved to lower and pocket the pistol.

"Martha." He gasped. "Are you sure?" He understood her - it was heartfelt empathy for this alien woman's plight.

"Jonathan – what else would you have me do?" She asked.

He shook his head, but what could he say to his wife. It was a baby - an orphan.

Martha's hands reached out, passing through the insubstantial image that was Lara and taking hold of the substantial form of the living child.

She drew the baby close to her, he was wrapped in a brilliant red blanket, she pulled back its folds; his hands jerked happily, and his blue eyes twinkled with life and joy.

"His name is Kal" Jor-El stated. "He is of the Great House of El, the Great Architects of Kyrpton."

"But you must give him a new name, a name from your people, a suitable name for a man of your world." Lara asked.

"Yes. Of course." Martha replied.

"Please take good care of our son." The Aliens asked together. "Raise him to be good man; all we ask is that you remember us, so in time our son can remember the people of his birth."

The figures twinkled and vanished. Their last wish apparently completed. The globe hung in darkness, it's unearthly energy apparently exhausted, it sank to road, where it listed silently, dark and dead.

Jonathan looked at Martha and at the baby cradled in his wife's arms, both lit by the headlights of the truck. The child was so small, delicate and fragile, with bright piercing blue eyes.

The baby seemed happy.

But vitally Martha was happy, he could see it - she was smiling – really smiling, for the first time in such a long time a broad happy smile.

After a long moment he said. "That's sure the strangest romper suit I've ever seen."

Leaving Martha with the baby Jonathan turned his attention to the alien sphere. He was in two minds – part of him wanted to forget the otherworldly encounter completely to turn around and run; just leave the craft and those memories behind. However common sense told him that it would be better for Martha if he kept matters under his own control. Compelled by circumstance, by Martha's choice., he decided he had to hide the spacecraft.

He wasn't sure how much it weighed. He hoped it was light enough for him to push.

Jonathan set up a makeshift ramp. It was made from a couple of planks that he carried around for that very purpose, and the burly farmer rolled the spherical vessel on the bed of the truck, throwing a tarpaulin sheet over the alien craft, and lashing it down. Martha was content nursing the orphan child from outer space.

Climbing into the truck beside her he said. "Lets go home., it's going to be dawn before long, and we're both tired.

"And I think this little mite is hungry." Martha replied. "I've some Infant Formula back in the house that Mary left when she stayed with us last."

He looked at her and the newborn, understanding that the events of this night had changed their lives forever.

"We can worry about everything else tomorrow." She said.

Jonathan nodded. Martha was right, wasn't she always? As he drove away the transmission whined; but all he could think about was the baby in Martha's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

"Clark, slow down!"

"I'm sorry Grandma, I just like to go fast, I didn't mean to upset you."

Grandma Kent steadied herself, she looked flustered, before making her way across to the chicken coop, the scraps from dinner in a bucket. Clark ran around pretending he was an aeroplane, arms extended, chuntering like a engine under load.

"Not even two – and already walking the walk and talking the talk, are you sure he's not older – he has to be older right?"

"Hush Mary, don't be silly – Clark is just a clever boy."

Martha's older sister Mary wasn't convinced. Ice tea in hand she walked out on to the Farmhouse's Verandah.

"Martha look at him go!" She called to her sister. "I do declare I've never seen a two year old sprint with such balance. Where did you find him again?"

Martha stared her sister down.

"I know. No loose talk around Clark." The older woman said dryly. "I don't know how you could stay here for all that time and not see a soul."

"I had a difficult pregnancy." Martha replied. "A few months on my back. Didn't want to take any risks."

Mary said nothing, a knowing look passed between them.

"Yes Aunt Mary, where did I come from?"

"Clark!" The child had appeared without warning as if by magic.

"Clark can hear a pin drop, and he never forgets." Martha laughed - her sister recognised the implied rebuke.

"Babies come from a mommy's tummy Clark."

"oh like the calves?"

"Yes Clark, just like the Calves."

The precocious child seemed happy with that answer and Clark barrelled off towards the barn; where Jonathan was entertaining Mary's son - his older cousin Gary.

Mary chastened, waited until the boy ducked between the double doors and out of sight.

"I guess growing up on a farm makes a big difference."

"Sure it's a wonderful place to raise a child. All this space, all this fresh air – it's perfect."

"Darling, I don't mean to be critical, but isn't Clark a bit young to be seeing the cows give birth?"


	4. Chapter 4

Martha passed Jonathan a cold drink.

"Thanks. You know our boy is as strong as Gary, if not stronger, had them both helping me in the barn, and Gary's more than twice Clark's age, not that you'd know."

"Mary gave me evils today. Clark mentioned where the calves come from."

"You didn't tell her..."

Jonathan looked around for his sister-in-law. Martha gestured in the direction of the front room, where the wireless was blaring out the latest Jazz tune.

"Yeah... sure... I said Clark told us there was little cows in the fat cows tummy's, and when we asked how he knew this, Clark explained he had a look inside to see why they were so fat, and he saw the little cows in there..." Martha smile and poked her husband mischievously.

"No Jonathan, I just bit my lip and told her, hey it's the country, things are more real here."

Jonathan laughed loudly.

"shhh she'll hear you!" Martha kissed him.

"I'm glad you are persuasive woman Martha Kent – Clark is a God-send, and a genius and an athlete in the making."

Jonathan took his wife in his arms, whispering to her gently "I love you Martha Kent. I love Clark, I love my family."

Upstairs, on the other side of the rambling farmhouse through walls and ceilings, Clark lay in his bed. "I love you too daddy." He whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mom, I want to go to school, Pete says it's the best fun."

"Clark, I'm more than capable of teaching you here."

"But Mom, I want to!"

Martha dried her hands and left the sink. She poured a cup of coffee from the stove, and a glass of milk for Clark followed.

Clark sat down at the kitchen table, the yellow check tablecloth contrasted with the green plate littered with home made cookies.

"Clark do you remember the last time Aunt Mary stayed over with Gary?"

"Sure." he took a cookie. "I remember."

"You were four years old, and Gary so wanted to be able to beat you at something, that he climbed that tree. The big one in the forty acre field."

"I tried to let him win lots of times." Clark replied. "Besides that was years ago, I'm seven now, and Pete he's been to school for ages already, and I'll be good, I'll come last in everything!"

"But Gary became frightened, he was too high and scared and stuck up that tree, so you climbed up and then grabbed hold of him and just jumped down."

"He said I hurt him, but I never did!" Clark protested. "he'd be there now if I hadn't helped him."

"Clark Kent! That is an untruth, your Pa would have taken a ladder down there and brought him down – and you know it."

Clark looked sheepish.

"Aunt Mary never forgave you for scaring Gary. Thank Goodness she didn't believe a word Gary said about it. Although if you're Pa hadn't insisted on taking Gary over to Doc Lang with his talk of a concussion she'd have tanned his behind for lying. Problem being son we know he wasn't; but we couldn't say so."

"Instead Aunt Mary said I was a wicked boy persuading him to go climbing, when it was him!"

"Clark you're special. You know that. People they just don't understand, they get you wrong; it's not their fault, it's just you are different that's all."

"So I can't go to school." Clark sulked. "Pete say's I'm missing out."

Jonathan Kent's arrival through the front door was marked by the burly farmer's familiar cry of honey I'm home. His green 'town' suit confirming he'd just returned from a ride into Smallville. Settling down in his favourite chair he gestured to his sullen boy to come over. Martha poured him a mug of coffee. Clark offered his Pa one of his cookies, and told him about Pete and schooling.

"Sounds more like Mr's Ross talking to me. These are sweet darling." Jonathan commented on the cookie he had just bitten into.

"That's because I baked them for Clark. They're mainly sugar." Martha answered as she handed him his hot drink.

Jonathan passed the half eaten cookie to Clark.

"But just maybe the boy is right Martha."

His wife frowned and sat down. "Jonathan! I'm far better qualified to teach Clark than that Prendergast woman whose teaching the younger children up at the school - and you know it."

"And I wouldn't expect you to stop. But school is more than book knowledge and doing math. The boy needs to experience real life, and see how people work, and don't work together."

Clark smiled believing he had his father on side, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"Now listen to me, Clark!" Jonathan cautioned. "This great strength of yours - you've got to hide it from people or they'll be scared of you!

"Being different -even good different as you are, well that frightens some people, most folk can't help being that way, it's just the way they are."

"Does that mean I can never be myself?"

Martha shook her head. "Clark right now you're still a child, but when you are man, you'll be older and wise and when the proper time comes, you must use your great strength to assist humanity. That's who you are."

"OK Mom I promise I will. Does this mean I can go to school?" Clark asked.

Martha stood up, she rested a hand on her sons shoulder. "Well Clark, let's just see about that. Let your Pa and I think about this some more." As she turned towards the Kitchen she said. "And Jonathan we'll have talk about this later."

Jonathan looked at Clark and winked. "I'm sure we will darling, I'm sure we will."


	6. Chapter 6

"Clark Kent." The balding man looked over his glasses as the Kent boy, he sat behind an imposing desk, a plaque read Principle. G. Edwards. Smallville School

"Miss Prendergast has told me that you made Brad Riley cry, some kind of fight."

"Riley's hand is all swollen Mr Edwards."

"Thank you Miss Prendergast. You see Kent, I'm not surprised that young mister Riley should have been involved in some fisticuffs, in fact I'm quite tired of seeing him in this office for similar shenanigans.

"What troubles me is a new boy not yet a week into a new semester should find himself in this office for making a ruffian like Riley cry.

"You see Kent that in my book means you must be a good deal worse than he?

"Do you understand boy?"

"I did not hit him Sir."

"How is it that his hand is so badly bruised – did you stamp on him, what did you do eh?"

"He hit me once, and like the Good Book says sir, I turned the other cheek so he could hit that one.

"I guess when I didn't complain the first time, he just got all the madder and hit me harder the second time and hurt himself."

"Kent. You are telling me nearly broke his hand on your face? I might be inclined to believe such a story if you had a bust lip, or even a bruise! Come boy I'm no fool."

Clark looked at Mr Edwards. He could hear his Pa's advice in his mind.

"Perhaps he hit something else.. eh Kent?

"Something hard? Like the wall? Was that it Kent. Did you move out of the way?"

Clark considered this.

"Yes sir, he hit something hard, hard like the wall I guess."

Edwards beamed.

"See Miss Pendergast, a simple explanation, Kent has the makings of a pugilist, dodging a punch you see... that said boy, no more fighting, or I'll have to beat you – and that Riley boy is enough trouble."

"Yes Sir, Mr Edwards."


	7. Chapter 7

"Clark you can carry my books if you like."

"Thank you Lana." Clark replied. "Are they too heavy for you?"

Lana made a face. Clark looked on nonplussed; he felt he was missing something here.

"You were brave, Brad is nasty, a bully."

"He shouldn't have been pulling your pigtails. My Mom told me that, no tugging girls hair."

"Clark?

"Why didn't you hit Brad back I mean. It was brave just standing there, and funny when Brad started to holler like a big ole' baby – but you should have punched his nose."

"Like I told Mr Edwards – the Good Book says you should turn the other cheek."

Lana looked serious for a moment. She couldn't argue with that.

"Don't see you at Sunday School."

"My Mom goes to Church regular, but Pa not so much – he doesn't hold with churches, he says creation is good enough place to say your prayers, besides I've read the bible... "

"You fibber - the whole thing! If you had - you'd know bearing false witness, that's lies Clark Kent – are wrong,"

Clark frowned.

"Yes - ok, you're right, I haven't once read the whole bible through." He said, hoping Lana wouldn't pick up on the distinction.

"Just like Dickens and Shakespeare." He added smiling.

Lana laughed.

"My daddy is the doctor silly – I know about them, old English writers, we have those books and a lot more too.

"Maybe you'd like to come around and see daddy's library – lots of books.

"It's funny you liking books."

"Clark!" Pete Ross shouted dragging him away as he ran past.

"Another time Lana." Clark called out.

Lana nodded and waved, she looked mad though. Clark returned a puzzled stare. Girls were different, they didn't pee standing up on account of not having the right equipment.

"Clark." Pete said earnestly. "You got to be careful around girls, they have germs and you end up a sissy and playing with dolls.

"Let's go and play Cowboys and Indians!"

"Cowboys and Outlaws." Suggested Clark.

"Okay Clark, no shooting the Indians, just the bad guys."

The two boys tore off into the distance making guns with their hands and kepow noises with their mouths.


	8. Chapter 8

Clark left the Ross house.

He was excited Pete had let him have a new book 'A beginners guide to magic - fully illustrated'. The cover boldly promised to instruct in easy to follow lessons all manner of tricks including; mesmerism, ventriloquism and slight of hand illusions; but his friend had found the lessons anything but easy - and quickly losing interest Pete had passed the self instruction manual to Clark.

The young Kent boy hustled along; jogging warily along the dirt track that led out towards the Kent spread. Once Clark felt he was far enough away from Smallville, he stopped to remove his socks and shoes, tucking one inside the other, and then under his arm along with his school books, and Pete's Magic manual.

Clark now barefoot felt free to run; an athlete could cover a mile in around 250 seconds, Clark at seven years old was comfortable cruising at a steady 30 miles per hour. His shoes were not.

Coming upon the Kent land, Clark paused by the corner of the Forty Acre field where there stood a familiar group of trees, among them the Oak Gary had infamously climbed. Clark on a whim sought out a broken stump, the legacy of a past storm.

In his mind the stump was Brad Riley; it was about his height and then some.

Clark's hand made a fist that connected with the wood, his half hearted first strike was followed more forcefully by his other hand.

He recalled his Pop teaching Alfie Jones how to throw a punch. That summer Alfie had started working most days on the Kent farm. Jonathan had seen him come in one morning with a bruised face, Pop had declared that the boy needed to know how to defend himself.

Alfie's kin had come to America from Africa as slaves, and even though he was an American just like Clark, there were people who didn't see it that way.

His Mom said there were bad people in the world; people like Brad Riley, Clark decided.

Clark leant into the punch; put your back into it his dad had said to Alfie.

His fists drummed on the stump, the dry bark fell away, wood splintered. Clark struck harder, exhilarated..

His hands began to ache, the dull pain was a unusual sensation, and finding his anger subsiding Clark stopped pummelling. His fists had made a random series of impressive dents in the hardwood stump; and the skin of his knuckles, although red and inflamed remained unbroken.

Turning Clark sprinted home faster than a speeding Ford Model T.


	9. Chapter 9

Jonathan folded the paper under his arm, two years on from Black Thursday, and things were going from bad to worse.

Clark was playing ball, with himself. He'd throw the ball into the air, run to the bat pick it up and hit the ball up again, and then run and catch the self same ball once again.

He took the coffee from Martha.

"I'm worried Jonathan."

"We're going to be just fine. I'm just glad I listened to you, cashing in those shares your daddy gave you, to pay for getting the electricity brought to the farm, cost the earth. Today those share's wouldn't buy spit."

Clark was getting quicker, Jonathan could see it, year on year, his throws and strikes propelled the ball along increasingly longer and more direct course, he was making the task harder for himself. He was both a blur, and a cloud of dust.

Martha threw an arm around his waist. "It's not the farm that worries me, we're not going to starve, but how can we afford to keep paying Alfie Jones? And if he's not working how does he feed his family?"

"Same way we'll eat. Alfie will work for the dollar I can afford to pay, and he'll just have to take the balance in kind, milk, meat, we'll grow more than we need here, I reckon that's the best way."

"He'll do that?"

"His idea Martha. Ever body knows things is bad."

"I'll quit school." Clark said; his sudden appearance surprised neither adult.

Jonathan looked into his coffee cup. "You reckon?" Deep in thought he as looked at his sons dust streaked face. "Are you all finished playing ball son? In a hurry to grow up?

"Good to see you breathing heavy." He added as an afterthought.

Clark wiped his brow. "A man should sweat shouldn't he Pop, it's not healthy otherwise?"

Martha lent over the verandahs wooden rail, and ruffled her sons hair. "Men perspire, horses sweat."

"I'm more use here." Clark waved a hand across the farm from House and garden to the barn and the milking shed.

"Thought you liked School?" Jonathan asked.

"It's Okay Pop, nothing I'll miss that much; don't want to play act at holding back no more, it's not getting any easier to be honest."

Martha frowned. "What do you mean darling?"

"I'm changing Mom, and it isn't just those kind of changes either."


	10. Chapter 10

Clark rode well, there was an instinctual quality to his horsemanship; and his easy mannerisms betrayed his farm and country roots. He had learned from his parents, his grandmother Kent, and from Alfie the farm hand, a kind and affectionate, but equally practical kinship with both the farm's animals and also the wilder natural world.

Lana watched him; from horseback Clark inspected the light brown herefords; the white faced cows that the Kent's had loosed into their fields, spring was in the air, and the heavily pregnant cows would soon give birth.

He acknowledged her, his hand tipping his wide brimmed hat in an extravagant motion copied from some cowboy feature. She climbed atop the field gate to gain a more equal perspective, as the young Kent guided his dark gelding to her.

"Howdy" he chimed running with the cowboy theme.

"Clark Kent the days of the open range ended in the winter of 1886.

"Thousands of cattle died in the snow that year.; and that's something you'd know if you'd gone back to school this semester."

Clark nodded. "Grandma told me all about that winter."

Lana stuck her tongue out at him and jumped down ..

Clark joined her, in a fluid motion his hand touched the top most bar as he vaulted effortlessly from the saddle to earth. The horse skitted, but Clark nonchalantly looped the long reins around the gate.

"Father has been asking after you." Lana said pretending not to notice his acrobatics.

"I'm sorry but I haven't had the time to visit your folks and you, as much as I'd like, I hope they're well."

"He's really disappointed in you Clark, he thought you had ambition, that you'd maybe make a doctor.

"Although I always told him you never looked at a page of those medical books of daddy's long enough to read any of them."

Clark smiled. "I like looking at the pictures."

"of peoples insides? I do declare Kent, you are the strangest boy." Lana's voice trailed off uncertainly.

Clark didn't look like the youth who she had spent the last days of the last school year sitting across from her in class.

"Your Father has been working you hard."

"Not so much, no more than he should; it has to be done."

"Look at your shoulders Clark, you've really filled out already."

"My Mom bakes the best cakes and cookies; well mostly everything, she's been feeding me up.

Besides, being outside in the sunshine really agrees with me."

Lana couldn't argue with him about that, there was already a maturity about Clark that seemed at odds with his years.

"So. You come out this away for any reason?" Clark asked.

"I was taking a walk. A constitutional. My Father heartedly recommends them.

Any way now I've seen you can't I begin to persuade you to come back to school?"

Clark lent against the Gate, and patted the horse.

"The cows are due to calve."

"Clark, wasn't it a bumper harvest last summer. Surely your dad can get help?"

"It was; but the price was very poor, there was too much grain, no one made much of a profit.

Lana things are bad."

"Which is a good reason to think about a professional career, if not medicine, what about law? - like your uncle."

"There is a dark cloud on the horizon." Clark stated.

Lana looked across lightly misted blue skies; her puzzled face spoke volumes.

Clark frowned – it was like there was something he needed to tell her, wanted to say, but he didn't know how to begin.

Lana reached out and took his hand. Clark let her.

"I've been looking at the land, across these plains." He explained. "You know they've never been ploughed like this - not like we've be doing."

"I know Clark, Smallville and lots of towns like us have done really well out it."

Clark nodded. "Sure while you and I have been growing up these have been real good years, so everyone says - good enough that most folks, including my Pa, went out and bought tractors, and trucks and the like.

"And the harvests have been good, and folks have done good out of them.

"But the soil Lana, some thing's not right - here, Texas, right across the prairies; and the air is dry, we're not getting the rain as we should."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at Clark. You talk like you've been checking up on the whole of the Great Plains."

Clark stood up straight and stepped back. A moment passed; and then he smiled.

"Sure Lana most nights I run trans-state across to Texas and Oklahoma, and all before breakfast." He winked.

She laughed. "Fool!" She said laughing, why don't you take me home so I can say hello to your Mom."

Clark nodded laughing, they mounted his horse; Clark effortlessly lifting Lana up behind him, and without thinking she wrapped her arms around his waist, inhaling the dusty earthy scent of him all too close, and her heart skipped a beat as they galloped away in the direction of the Kent Farm.


	11. Chapter 11

"Lana safely home Clark." Martha asked her son.

Clark hung his hat on the hooks by the back door. He smiled and nodded. "Safe and sound Mom."

He put a bundle of magazines on the table. "Dr Lang let me have some more back issues, there's Time, National Geographic and Popular Mechanics; and some others.

"What's for dinner?"

Martha slid the bubbling pot to one side of the stove, and gestured to Clark.

"First a course and sit down and listen to your mother." She wiped her hands and called Jonathan.

The older man wandered through, the radio hummed merry tunes from the front room. He had a pipe and taking a match the farmer lit the tobacco. Clark watched him, practised deliberate actions, he saw the smoke curl, smelled the pungent burning leaf. He read the signs.

"What have I done wrong?"

"Now son, no call to get defensive. There's nothing wrong in a healthy boy taking an interest in a healthy girl and visa versa."

"Pa, Mom and I have had this talk, way back, I mean it's not hard for a farm boy to put one and one together and work out where the babies come from."

"Well Clark it's not about the birds and bees that we need to talk to you about, not exactly any way." Matha said.

"And we're all too aware that you're more than able to _see_ what nature is all about son.

"Heck you were explaining that to your Aunt Mary when you were two." Jonathan laughed and tapped his pipe, it was a nervous habit, Clark recognised it.

"Your heart beat is raised Pa. Yours too Ma. What's so serious that it's got you both spooked."

"Clark you know we told you from the get go that you were special."

"Sure Pa, just like Samson, Hercules, there's always been exceptional people, really exceptional – people like me."

"No Clark, not like you, at least I don't think so." Jonathan ran his hands through his thinning hair.

"But you told me. You said every so often, rarely for sure, maybe only once in a thousand years – someone really strong or fast or both comes along – surely that's me - that's what I am?"

"Clark." Jonathan began. "I guess all that's true – at least as far as that goes.

"I guess seeing Lana making eyes at you this afternoon reminded us how much you've grown up, you're almost a man already. So there are things we feel we really should tell you."

"Okay Pa. I'm listening."

"Son this isn't easy for any of us, the thing is your Mom and I – we found out early on after we got married, that we weren't going to be having any children of our own."

Clark frowned, his hands made fists.

"We even went to an orphanage to talk about adopting. But then we found you."

"You found me?"

Jonathan and Martha began to explain how that fateful night had begun, how they'd stopped before a blinding light, how Jor-El and Lara's otherworldly recording had appeared, and how they'd taken their child, their Kal-El.

"They said we should name you; a human name - so I called you Clark, it seemed right that being my maiden name."

Clark stony faced stared at his Mom.

"A human name? Then what am I? What am I Mom?" His words were full of shock and even a little anger.

"Your my son, my beautiful boy, you're Clark Kent."

"I was Kal-El of Krypton first."

"And your Mother was a Clark before she was a Kent. What of it?" His Pa pointed at him with his pipe. "You are a Kent. And don't you ever forget that."

"I'm an alien!"

"So was your great great Grandfather, him and every soul that came to the new world from the old, before that and since then."

"But I'm not Human."

"Better to be humane Clark!" Jonathan exclaimed. "Humans are blood thirsty lot, look at what happened to your Uncle Tom in France, to all those boys out there from all over the world, and you tell me that being human is so damn wonderful!

"You've more goodness in you than any one I've ever met. That's what matters Clark."

Martha took her sons hand. "Darling look you're handsome, clever, and so talented. I've seen the pictures in the pulps you read, you're not green, you haven't got tentacles or anything like those aliens in the comics have, you're not a monster.

"You're a handsome young man, so handsome the prettiest girl in town is all dewy eyed over you."

Clark stood up. Angry, uncertain, he glanced down at the cover of the up most magazine in the pile Lana's father had given him, Popular Mechanics 30th anniversary issue. There colourfully illustrated on the magazines front page were the wonders of the modern age; towers of steel concrete and glass, great engines of industry and commerce, they seemed to belong to an alien world, one far far away from small town Kansas. Dominating the cover there was a great colossus with chiselled features towering over lesser men like a greco-roman god of the olden times.

"But I was born Kal-El of Kyrpton. I may look human, but I'm not Mom, - don't you know what that means?

"It means Lana isn't looking dewy eyed at a boy – because I'm not a 'boy'. And really do you think she'd look at me like that if she knew – that I wasn't...?"

"Clark, don't be hard on your mother. That's unfair! You've known from the beginning that you were different. Very different.

"Look at how Gary wet himself when you jumped him out of that tree. You've always known you had to be careful or people might get scared of you.

"So you tell me son - just what has changed – really Clark, what has changed? Do you really love your Mom any less, now that you know she chose to take you in?

"With nature you don't get to choose son, you just have to live with what nature gives you."

Martha leant across the table. "Jonathan, don't be hard on him, it's a lot for anyone to take in."

"See Clark your mother, she's a good woman, loved you from the very beginning.

"If you want to be mad, be mad with me; because your Mom had to convince me that we should take you in and call you our own."

The colour had drained from Clark's face.

"Look son I wasn't sure about adopting a baby, any baby for that matter. So a baby from another world, you see it wasn't easy. So I admit I wasn't sure, not at the very beginning.

"So long story short, we took you over to that Orphanage, the one we'd visited. We left you there, just for one night - and the very next day we came back. Why? Because your Mother convinced me to do the right thing by you."

Clark looked down at his feet.

His Pa sighed. "You realise that the Orphanage was more than glad to sign you over to us. I don't know what you did while you were there, but I can hazard a guess." He laughed nervously; then found his voice again.

"Thing is son, I've never regretted deciding to call you ours; once I came around to the idea, and although it wasn't easy raising an exceptional child, I'd do it again. Don't you see Clark, you are our son - you're a Kent."

Clark closed his eyes. He felt his Mother's arm wrap around him. She was crying.

"I'm sorry Mom." He said. "I love you both, and you're right Pa we're still the same people we've always been – I understand that who I am, the flesh of me hasn't changed.." He hugged Martha. She felt his pain like only a mother can.

"Clark what's troubling you ?" She asked.

"Sure Son get it off your chest." His Pa suggested.

Clark sighed, he seem to struggle for a moment to find the words.

"Lots of people look at a dolphin and say what a fine fish it is, because it looks like a fish, it swims like a fish, lives with the fishes in the sea, but science tells us it's not a fish, it's more like a cow or a sheep, it's really what they call a mammal and as far removed from the fishes as people are.

"Don't you see Mom? Pa? That's me. Yesterday I thought I was just a funny fish, today I find out I'm not a fish at all. That's what is different.

"Look I need some air, I'm going outside for a bit,... with your permission Pa."

Jonathan nodded.

Martha reached out to her son, but it was her husband that took her hand. Clark closed the door behind him.

"Now Martha let him be, he'll be fine, he just needs to digest what we've told him, that's all. He's a good boy, and he'll be just fine. I promise."

Clark could hear his father's words peter out behind him as he put distance between himself and the farm. Bare feet pounded the earth, his powerful muscles taking him far away, and in due course - a random, weaving course; he found himself back at Smallville, stood outside the Lang House, the town surgery, Lana's home.

The door bell rang. Lana looked up from her book, her Mother continued to sow, glancing up from her needlework Mrs Lang asked her to answer the door. "It might be a medical emergency." Then looking at the mantle clock. "It's getting late and we're not expecting visitors."

Lana swung open the commanding door that fronted this one of Smallville's more imposing properties.

"Clark Kent. Twice in one day! You might think you were trying make up for being such a stranger."

"Sorry I'm calling late, but may I speak with your Father?"

Lana could see that he was dishevelled, his hair windswept and his clothes dusty.

"Papa? Oh Clark, are you all right, are your parents.. are they sick?"

"We're fine thank you Lana, I mean we're no different than before. I just need to speak with your..."

"Clark my boy!" Dr Lang's trademark cigar smoke wafted before him, he stood over Lana.

"So it's you calling. A little late don't you think?"

"Yes Sir, I'm sorry I didn't think this through perhaps; but may I speak with you please?"

"Didn't think? I'd have thought half a dozen miles or so between the Kent spread and town would have been plenty of opportunity to think Clark, but if this is important, I'm sure I can spare you some of my time. Although son I'd have much preferred you called during business hours."

Lana turned away, and left them, a parting glance was enough to communicate a mixture of annoyance, concern, and confusion.

Dr Lang indicated for Clark to follow him inside and further into his study.

"Now Clark." Lang pointed to a chair. "Sit my boy, and tell me what it is that brings you here."

Doctor Lang leant back in his leather chair.

"Doctor, tonight I've learned I'm adopted."

"I see.

"And this troubles you?"

"Yes I suppose it does."

"Understandably Clark, and I can see why you feel the need to talk about this, and perhaps why you're not thinking so clearly this evening.

And truthfully I'm glad you felt you could come to me.

"Clark there isn't anything wrong or bad in been adopted. Children become orphans for many reasons, non of them through any fault of their own.

"And son - you should be glad that your parents chose you; that the Kent's in particular chose you. Your Mother and Father are some the best people I have had privilege of knowing."

"Doctor – it's not that, I love my Pa, my Mom. They are wonderful. It's me I'm... not... one of you."

Lang laughed.

"I'm sorry Clark, look at you! You're a bright boy, too bright not to be in school." Lang remarked pointedly. "But tell me what exactly do you think you are?

"Surely you can see that an orphan is person, with all the inalienable rights of any American.

"So you and your parents are not blood kin. Some folk would make an issue of that, I won't pretend otherwise.

But truthfully blood is nothing to do with what family is."

Land leant forward "Look is your Mother any less a Kent, any less a member of the family, because she is only married to your Father?

Clearly not, yet all they did was swear before God and man to be husband and wife. That's how they became a family – through a solemn promise. A promise made to each other because of love. Adoption is the same. They loved you and promised to keep you."

"But my blood..."

"Is blood, red stuff in your veins."

"Is it?" Clark whispered. Then out loud. "Please Sir, do you have a blood testing set?"

Lang frowned. "You mean blood typing test kit. Of course – this is the only clinic for some distance, it is a necessity. It would be impossible to transfuse blood safely otherwise.

"But why would you ask me about blood typing?" Lang leaned back. Clark remained unforthcoming.

The Doctor drew his own conclusion. "I presume you're asking me to test your blood? However I fail to see how that information would be of any help to you."

Clark swallowed, he bit his lip. "Doctor I realise it's an strange thing to want, but I need to know... something about me, about my blood."

"Ah!" Lang observed, nodding. "Oddly Clark, now I reflect on this, there is a certain logic in your request. Psychologically I'd say this is an expression of deep seated need to know about your biology.

"I blame myself, letting you read all and sundry; medical journals and the like; but if it helps put your mind to rest, then I see no harm in it.

"Take off your shirt. I'll be back shortly."

Lang returned with his medical bag, and another separate leather case.

"I'll just use this hypodermic needle to take a sample using this syringe. I've found it to be best if you look away."

"Odd!" he remarked. Clark felt him try again.

"Very odd." Lang said.

"Another bad needle." He explained fitting a third.

"Blast." He continued, repeating the attempt.

"This must be a faulty batch." Lang disappeared and returned yet again.

He persevered.

"What th..!" The Doctor said finally. "This is the sixth hypodermic needle I've bent against your skin."

Clark looked up at him. "Keep trying Doc!"

Lang shook his head in bewilderment. "Now I've heard the Kent's are a thick skinned lot but this is ridiculous."

"Let me try?" Clark asked

"Please?" He held his hand.

Lang hesitated and then relented. "Sticking yourself is no easy feat. I can't imagine why these needles can't break your skin."

Clark quickly, imperceptibly nipped the skin of his arm between the hard sharp nails of his fore finger and thumb. His nails were exceptionally hard, he'd tried to bite them only recently, mainly out of curiosity and found it impossible even for him, each remained perfect formed, and just like his hair - neither had grown beyond an apparently naturally neat predetermined length. His nails cut through the outer dermis, and using his exceptional vision Clark nicked a vein in his arm, and with a slight of hand – a speed and grace that a master magician would envy he slipped the hypodermic needle into his vein before his fast healing flesh could close the tiny wound.

"Heavens, I must be more tired than I realised. You did that effortlessly." Lang observed as he took over the syringe and drew blood from Clark.

"Well it's sure looks red to me, so that means your not royalty I'm afraid." Lang joked lamely.

Opening the leather case he continued to work,dripping the sample into various small test tubes it contained. Then Lang added the reagent to each sample and observed how the blood reacted."

Finally he turned back to Clark.

"Well my boy, that is interesting."

"What?" Clark demanded. "What's wrong with it?"

Lang laughed warmly. "Nothing at all, quite the opposite, seeing how the samples reacted – well from that I can deduce that you're blood type is O, that means you are a Universal Donor. You do know what a Universal Donor is don't you?"

Clark looked dumbstruck.

Lang continued. "It's when.."

Clark still in shock, interrupted. "a person is able to donate to any other person, but they themselves can only receive type O blood."

"Quite right! I'm glad your days here weren't entirely wasted. Did I ever tell you that you really should consider a career in medicine?"

Clark nodded.

"Well, young Mr Kent, whatever you decide to do with your talents - with blood like yours, I'd say you were born to save people."


	12. Chapter 12

Clark ran with his eyes closed, supernatural senses allowing him to navigate through the thick dusty air that engulfed him. To many it felt like the end of the world. The drought ravaged dry soil, exposed by the plough was stripped by driving winds, whipped into huge black clouds which billowed across the Great Plains. Huge dust storms rolling across the land caking men and beasts, machines and buildings in dirt.

Once the stuff of life - the earth itself was now death, a lingering taste in the mouth, that stung the eyes and coated the lungs.

Clark leapt angrily upwards bursting out into the sky he breathed deeply the clean air, filling his lungs, and for a moment twisting in the wind he absorbed the expanding desolation that men called the dust bowl.

His descent was rapid, not for the first time he span somersaulting to arrest his fall, landfall was hard and solid, back into the brutal darkness.

Home was dirty, dry, and spoiled, gone was the tidy garden, claimed by drought; gone the bright paint obscured by dust; gone was the joy in life.

In it's place was powerlessness.

Clark emerged from maelstrom, his body caked in dust, half naked apart from his torn short britches.

"Boy you look like that Jonny Weissmuller's, cept that your a Tarzan that's been wrestling mud." Clark laughed. His Pa shook his head, gesturing to the floor.

"And for pity's sake remember your Mom - your mother has enough trouble keeping the muck outside as it is."

"Sorry Pa, but my clothes can't take the strain, and I'm not wanting to rip them up, and wear them out. Maybe that's why Hercules is painted wearing skins? Maybe he had the same trouble."

Jonathan laughed. "Good thing your mother is lying down. She'd be mighty disappointed to see that you're cavorting around like a savage."

"I'm more like the invisible man." Clark countered. "No one sees me. Especially when the dust storms are blowing."

"Is it getting any better?"

"No Pa, worse, I'm seeing more death, all the time, first it was the cattle, their belly's full of clay from eating all the dust covered grass, then there is the people. People like Mom, the dust is killing people Pa."

Jonathan took his pipe. His fingers automatically working the tobacco; striking a match and letting its flame work it's magic.

"Pa, Mom isn't well."

Jonathan Kent looked at his son, two years of dust and drought had hardened the land, and the young man's face, there was a steely resolve behind the blue eyes that had once sparkled so."

"She's got a cough son, lot's of people are having bad chests, it's this damn dust."

"Father." Clark's voice deepened. "It's more than just a cough, her lungs are inflamed, each time it gets worse, they fill with fluid."

"Just because you've read Doc Lang's library don't make you a doctor." Jonathan snapped.

"I see what I see."

Jonathan smacked his hands on the kitchen table. "What would you have me do."

"Go east. Go west. Either way – Mom needs clean air."

"Four generations. Four generations of Kent's have farmed here Clark. I can't just up and leave."

"What's more important Pa?"

Jonathan shook his head. "You have your mother's single mindedness Clark"

"You calling me names Jonathan Kent?" Martha asked as she crossed the threshold into the kitchen.

"Clark wants us to join the latter days exodus."

"Clark's here?" Martha coughed; harshly, a graveyard cough Jonathan's mother would have called it.

He looked up. "Must of left Martha, he was a bit messed up, dirty, didn't want you to see him like that, he'll be back once the storm blows over. Once he's been to the lake."

Clark could hear his Father breaking the damning news to his Mother; that her son thought it was time to leave Smallville. Clark loved the land, but his world had changed. As he had grown, so his world had grown, home was no longer just the Kent Farm, no longer just the small town of his childhood; Clark's home was much bigger. He was able to cross state lines in a night, he'd chased twisters, and leapt above the black clouds of death dealing dirt that damned the prairies to a new kind of hell, the dust bowl.

If there was every a moment when this exceptional young man felt entirely impotent it was in the face of the raging storm, the natural disaster that wind and drought have brought to naked ploughed earth of the once lush grasslands of the Great Plains.

With all his power he was powerless, nature was wrecking her revenge, and he could do nothing to assuage her wrath. Yet he ran into the storm, into the darkness.

Over the last weeks and months, he had run into the night, into the darkness of the black days. Men who had fallen; lay weak, overcome, unable to breath as the drifting dirt enclosed them, yet suddenly they had found themselves back among the living, inexplicably returned to the nearest farm or town; some boldly told far fetched stories of a mythical angel of mercy racing them through the dark skies.

Clark smelled the fire, even through the salt of the dust. He saw the flaming hot patterns dancing through the blackness. Leaping he hurtled through the air, smashing down to ground, his feet ploughed ruts in the dry earth as he scrambled forward into a run, he could see how the house was newly ablaze. While the barn was already lost; this tragedy was all to easily started in these tinder box conditions. Fire sparking into life, with devastating consequences.

Animals ran wildly, the family here had already loosed them from their stalls, saving them from the flames.

Bare seconds past as he tensed always ready to speed away, move on, while at the same time he scanned the landscape – his unique abilities meant he could pierce the dirt filled air, see through the walls of buildings, it was then his plans changed. Clark saw a lone figure upstairs, trapped inside the burning house. Slowing he was able to catch the shouts and screams of the family.  
"Grandpa!"

Clark leapt upwards, he punched through the window, glass and wood splintered. Fluidly he rolled upright on to his feet. Smoke was erupting under the bedroom door. An old man turned angrily to face him.

"It's the end of the world!" he growled, he wore a nightshirt, a heavy dressing gown, and slippers.

"Sir, please be calm, let me take you to safety."

"No! You're the Devil! You're not going to take me to hell!"

Clark considered this, it wasn't surprising. For many it really did feel like Judgement day had come. Outside a dust storm was raging; making day as dark as night, a darkness illuminated here by a raging fire. This was as close to hell on earth as you could imagine.

Simply from this old man's perspective; he had crashed into this madness - a man as dirty as the storm itself. Clark understood all too well the panic and the terror.. No wonder he thinks I'm here to damn him rather than save him.

"Sir, please your family is outside, come with me."

Clark glanced back, the older man's son - he assumed; had a ladder and was starting to climb. Soon he would reach the smashed window.

The old man shuffled forward, his body was weak, the dust, too much bed rest, Clark's concern for his failing health meant he wasn't looking for the shotgun, not immediately at least.

"Now Sir, please, don't do that. That door is holding back the fire, it's not going to last. I'm not the devil, I'm a man, a God fearing man."

"That flies through a man's window, brings smoke and fire with him!" The old man coughed, he shakily raised the gun from it's hiding place beneath his gown.

"I'll show you - you demon!"

Clark was aware of two things, the old man's fingers were tightening around the triggers, while in this same moment behind Clark the old man's son was now entering the room.

The Gun exploded, both barrells. Clark could have moved, but doing so would have mean certain death for the innocent man behind him.

He didn't know what a gun could do to him, but he was sure the other guy would fare far worse. So Clark stepped forward to meet the spray of pellets before they spread far and wide.

It was an anticlimax, his tensed body and his frame absorbed the impact, within that same second he was closed the distance between them, taking the gun away from the old man before gently catching him against his shoulder, easily lifting the flailing figure.

Clark moved like the wind, he turned and dived forward taking with him the stunned adult son collecting the second man with his free arm. Leaping forward Clark carried both men clear, out of the house into the void, before alighting to the earth, and letting them both gently to the ground.

Free of them, the rescue complete, Clark did not hesitate, jumping high and clear, he left as quickly as he had arrived, not waiting or wanting to hear the families thanks or give an explanation for his incredible actions; returning to the Kent Farm with huge leaps and bounds.

"Pa, I'm bullet proof." He said as he closed the door behind.

"Figures."

Jonathan offered his son a cup of coffee "I see you've found your shirt and pants." Jonathan observed.

Clark took the steaming mug, thanking his father, he briefly outlined the gunshot and the rescue.

"Had I been wearing a shirt it would have been shredded." Clark noted.

"Mom is resting again I see." His eyes scanned his parents room.

Jonathan nodded.

"Clark, your Mom and I have been talking things over. I'm not pretending I'm happy about this, but I'm going to write to my cousins in Maryland. With that big dairy spread they have out there I reckon they'll find room for us, at least until Martha's health improves.

"And while we're gone, well - Alfie is more than able to take care of things, make sure there's something left for us to come back to."


	13. Chapter 13

Alfie drew on the lit cigarette, framed in the red sunset of the dust laden skies, his oversized cap worn at a jaunty angle, a patched coat from an old suit hung over the Corral rail on which he lent. A worn denim waist overalls hung loosely and ended in good heavy boots, one of which was perched on the bottom rail of the fence.

"Evening Mr Kent."

"It's Clark, Pa is in the house."

"Like I said, evening Mr Kent."

"Alfie, it's Clark, just like it's been Clark for nearly ten years."

The lanky youth that had come to work for the Kents after his father fallen sick and died. Alfie was now a grown man; the boy who had found himself the principle bread winner for his brother and sisters, had now married and had started a family of his own.

Clark lent on the Corral fence next to him.

"Fine and dandy, Clark it is; but Clark I just call things the way I see them.

"And the way I see it is that you are all about grown up – so you better get used to being Mister Kent."

"Pa has told you?"

"That he's taking Mrs Kent out of all this. Yep. Can't say I'm surprised, wouldn't want any harm to come to Mrs Kent."

Alfie fixed Clark with a relaxed stare. "So Clark, where are you going?

"See if I was a betting man I'd wager that it won't be Maryland, and I'm sure you won't be staying on here. Not that I wouldn't welcome a man with your talents; I just don't see that happening."

"I'm not sure what you mean Alfie?"

"Sure, you know, you just thought I didn't have the measure of you."

Alfie stubbed his butt out, grinding the stub into the earth.

"Been here man and boy, nearly ten years, just like you said, seen you grow, seen things Clark that I reckon you didn't think I'd seen.

"Like the time we were fencing and you drove that nail into the post with you fist. Saw that out of the corner of my eye.

"Then as a boy, when you thought ole' Alfie wasn't watching, you'd lift things a man wouldn't like pick up, as if there was nothing to it.

"Okay - these last few years I've seen less unusual things going on, but I reckon that's on account on you been better at being you."

Clark let out a whistle and lent with his back to the fence. "Well you've got me - why Alfie didn't you say something before?"

The dark man laughed. "Reckoned it wasn't any of my business, if you Pa and you wanted to pretend there was nothing special about you, then that was your call; and if you weren't talking about it, then it wasn't my place to start."

"Thanks – I appreciate that Alfie."

"Wasn't any trouble, besides the Kents are good people; I'm grateful Clark for the opportunity, the trust your Pa and you, are putting my way."

"Smoke Clark?"

Clark waved a dismissive hand. "Thanks but no. Never found any pleasure in it."

Alfie shrugged and lit another cigarette.

"So where too? Where in the world will Clark Kent go?"

"Metropolis."

"The big Smoke. Figures. Told your parents?"

Clark shook his head.

"Reckon they'll know you're going your own way, saw it in your Pa's eyes."

"He's a good man – my father."

"True – very true, I sure missed mine; but your Pa, he was good to me, made no odds I was a Negro, he treated me fair. It was like having a piece of my own Pa back again."

"I guess he kind of adopted you." Clark observed.

Alfie drew deeply on his smoke. "Yeah guess he did, but Clark you're his boy, time will come and you'll be _the_ Mister Kent. This land will be yours, the fourth generation of Kents in Smallville, that's your inheritance."

Clark sighed. "I'm adopted too Alfie."

"Is that right... Kind of wondered why there was only the one of you, no other brothers and sisters. Funny – now a lot of them things make more sense, should have seen that.

"Where's you from Clark, any family out there – any more folk special like you?"

Clark shook his head. "I'm the last of my people.

"There was a... disaster, and my family died, but I was lucky. They got me out, and the short of it is Ma and Pa, they took me in; but there's nothing left of where I came from."

Alfie exhaled smoke, it curled around him. He took another contemplative toke.

"That's hard, difficult when you don't know your roots. Mine are in Africa, like to see Africa one day.

"You don't know anything about who you are?"

"My birth parents names, that's all really."

"Maybe you could find out where your folks are buried."

Clark shook his head "That's the thing there's no bodies Alfie – it was a big explosion, long ways from here; nothing left of anything you see."

"That's not right Clark – I mean when a man passes on they're should be a marker of who he was. It took me a long time to save enough for my Pa a grave marker; but no way was he going to lay forgotten. If I was you I'd want something to remember them folks by, because whoever you are today, and whoever you become tomorrow, them dead folks – they will always be who you were."


	14. Chapter 14

Clark reflected on his conversation with Alfie, the guy had more common sense and practical logic than many men who had a wall full of academic qualifications, for this reason and his stoic loyalty Clark respected him a great deal.

Now as the night sky filled with stars, Clark found himself looking down at the buried sphere which had delivered him to Earth. His father had shown him where he had hidden the long inactive machine. Jonathan Kent had dug a hole in the earth; and buried the alien device in far corner of the Kent's yard. Ever since Clark had learned of his origins; his birth name – Kal-El; this quiet corner of the farm had taken on a different meaning.

His supernatural vision penetrated the dirt easily but found the sphere – as always - to be impenetrable. Part of him remained curious about the machine, and yet another part afraid, and last of all there was the sense that this was a grave; the tomb of a lost world, of Krypton, of Jor-El of Lara.

Clark's huge leap took him to the corner of Forty Acre Field. There among the trees he recognised the stony outcrop he needed. The heavy chisel he carried made fast work of the hard rock. Clark didn't need a hammer, his hands drove the hardened steel into stone effortlessly, his hand a methodical blur of repetitive motion. Cutting one then a second identical stone slab from the exposed rock-face. Clark used another harder stone still, to polish them, his hands a blur of motion, then after a close inspection he was satisfied; collecting the slabs like huge sheets of card, he ran back to the Kent Farm.

Standing above the tomb of his alien crib, Kal-El remembered Kyrpton. Powerfully he drove the stone slabs into the earth, one next to the other; two identical head stones. Across the horizon the Sun began rise – and a new day dawned.

With his finger he carved Jor-El and then Lara. He stood back, framed in the sun rise, looking at the completed work, he whispered.

"Now I have remembered who I was. Now I must become who I am to be."

Jonathan looked at the headstones. Clark had confessed how he'd spent his night over breakfast.

"Look like they've been there always son."

"You don't mind Pa?"

Jonathan knew Clark was concerned for his feelings, for Martha's feelings; he didn't want to offend them.

"I can't say that I do. It's only fitting we remember those who've gone before."

Jonathan put an arm around his son.

"Clark, we've always told you in due course when you're old enough, when you're ready you'd have to find your way in the world, to use your exceptional abilities for the greater good, for our country; for justice and truth – that's the American way.

"I guess I'm saying we never expected you to be a farmer."

"Pa, I don't think I'm going to come with you and Mom to Maryland."

"I know son.

"Don't fret about growing up, like I said, your Mom and I knew this time would come, maybe it's come sooner than we'd expected, but don't think for a moment we'd stand in your way, a man got to do, what a man has go to do.

"Besides we've been thinking about this... for some time now; you've given us reason to think; any way son before you go out into the world..."

"Metropolis I thought Pa."

"Sure Clark, Okay Metropolis - you should look up your Uncle Nathaniel and Aunt Mary; about time they did something useful.

"Any way – I was saying, before you go to Metropolis your Mom has something that belongs to you."

Clark a little puzzled followed his Pa into the house.

"Clark is going to Metropolis Martha."

"From the smallest of towns to the biggest of cities. That's a mighty leap Clark."

Jonathan laughed. "If any man is able to make mighty leaps it's our boy."

Martha frowned. "Big place Metropolis, and it's not all shiny and new like the Pictures paint it; or Mary writes it."

"That's why I'm going Mom."

Martha frowned. "Could you get me those cookies out of the oven Clark. I have something for you besides those."

"Metropolis indeed." Martha muttered.

"And what's going to happen to our bullet proof boy?" Jonathan teased her – leaning in whispering. "Heck Martha he doesn't even need oven gloves, look at him! It's like he's made of steel."

Martha pulled a cute face and pushed back her hair.

"So Clark. Say a building is on fire, and people are need of help – what then?"

"Why Mom – I'd rescue them."

"And when your running around a burning building, what happens to your clothes – they'll be burned from off back, and then what?"

"That is a problem." Clark agreed.

"Exactly!" Jonathan said. "Metropolis isn't Kansas, can't go running around and not expect to be seen."

Martha pointed at her son. "Clark I'm not having you doing those heroics of yours, heroics that you are bound to do, only to end up running around America's largest and busiest city like a savage."

"Mom we know that my clothes aren't tough enough; but what else can I do?

"That said, I was thinking about steel. Maybe I should make myself a suit of steel. That might work?"

"Hardly a friendly or even practical outfit." Martha replied. "Scary I'd say; and why would you want to scare people? Besides we've both been thinking about this problem."

Martha took a wooden box from the dresser; opening the lid she unpacked from plain paper wrapping a tiny fabric tunic.

Holding it up to the window so Clark could see the bright primary colours in sunlight. The blue and red, a flash of yellow, and a peculiar shield.

"Hope." He said.

"Pardon Son?" His Father asked.

"The symbol it means hope." Clark replied. "I don't know why I know it means hope, but it does, I'm certain of it."

"This is the suit that you were wearing when you came out of the machine." Martha explained.

"Yeah sure, you told me about that a while back – but I don't get how this baby suit helps?" Clark laughed. "It's tiny. Like a dolls outfit. I mean how did I even fit into that as a baby; unless I was an incredibly small baby... was I... ?

"Nope." His father replied. "You were on the generous side if anything."

Martha grabbed the suit and tugged. "It stretches see."

"Not a lot Mom. Ok maybe enough for a baby..."

"Clark, here take it, you try."

Clark looked at his Pa, who nodded enthusiastically, taking the suit from his mother, he took hold of the arms and pulled. The alien fabric stretched elastically, it didn't change in colour, just in size, there was some distortion, but Clark was only expanding the fabric in one direction.

"Wow. It's so stretchy, and so thin, and yet so strong."

Martha nodded.

"I got thinking a while back, about how you'd given up wearing regular clothes when you were leaping around. That bothered me. It was then I remembered how that baby suit had shrunk when we peeled you out of it.

"I guess it was so funny looking to us we just put it away and forgot about it."

"Your Pa and I were talking about things, you being who you are, and I thought just maybe since that baby suit looked so much like the ones in the recording of your birth parents, that it just might actually be the same; you know like a one size fits all sort of suit."

Jonathan picked up the story.

"So after your Mom had found the suit again, I tried to stretch it and it did. Then I figured what I needed was more pull; and so that's when I tried it in the bench vice and me tugging on it - hard as I could; and I managed to get it bigger still.

"Then son. Watch!"

Jonathan too out the carving knife, and tried to cut the alien cloth. He couldn't

"Won't burn either, I tried that. It repels water, grease, dirt, everything I threw at it."

Clark took the suit into his hand. He smiled.

"Okay I better try this on."

He winked at his Mom and stepped out of the kitchen, moments later he reappeared.

"Oh my word!" Martha gasped.

Clark stood tall, and at his centre – visually – was the symbol of hope. The same glyph Martha had first seen as a random pattern of red shapes on a yellow background edged by red, that Jonathan had described as the stylised 'S'.

This shield dominated the suit, drawing the observers eyes to it's vividness.

"Well the gal's won't be looking at your face so much in that get up." Jonathan laughed.

The costume was mainly blue. This thin blue fabric covered Clark's athletic frame like a second skin; clinging to his muscled torso, his arms and legs.

Red shorts seemed to sit on top the blue costume, mainly because these where of a different slightly thicker material, and as result where – and probably for the better - less revealing; a yellow belt topped these shorts. The boots were the same shade of resplendent red, and appeared part of the suit, but at the same time distinct, and their leather look material also stretching while remaining uniformly thicker than the rest of the costume.

"This feels great; but you know what I really need?

"A cape."

Clark began to explain. "You see I've been thinking too.

"Sometimes when I leap it's like I need more control, something to help me turn and maybe slow down, you know something a bit like a parachute - and I think I could use a cloak to do that.

"Then as I was pulling this costume on I remembered how Mom said that I was wrapped inside a red blanket too. So it occurred to me that if it's the same sort of indestructible material as this suit, then it might work as a cape."

Martha nodded. "I know exactly where that is."

Returning after a few minutes she passed a brown paper bundle to Clark, unwrapping the red blanket he could instantly tell it was the same fine fabric as the main part of the costume, while being same shade of red as the boots and shorts.

"Pa you said Jor-El wore a cape."

"Sure he did, and Lara, they both did."

Clark held up the alien cloth. There was an all yellow version of the 'S' Shield in the centre.

"I just think this is one too; not a blanket but a cape, they must have used this like a blanket for me, so I guess it was important to them."

Clark flexed and twisted, he threw the red cloak across his shoulders, it fell dropping like a red sail. He held it there for a moment, his fingers pressing against the fabric, and almost imperceptible depressions in both suit and cape seemed to fit together; which they did.

"Yeah, that's just snazzy!" He said dropping his hands, the cape was now held in place by the invisible but pre-existing mounting points.. "I like it, feels right. It adds a touch of class."

"I guess I won't look like a savage any more."

"No son, that you do not." Jonathan agreed. "You look like a hero."


	15. Chapter 15

Clark pulled on the heavy white cotton shirt, checking how it looked in the mirror. His distinctive costume was obscured by the weighty cloth, anything too thin and the bright primary colours would be visible through shirt's material, which defeated the idea of wearing street clothes over his indestructible suit.

He walked across the bedroom of his small rented apartment. Glancing out the window he looked across to the towering skyscrapers of Troy State Island, Metropolis.

Plainly decorated and spartanly furnished ; a bed, a side table, a set of drawers and a wardrobe.

Opening this he removed the first of six identical suits hung inside. Each was a dark flat navy blue, nothing garish he had insisted on that. The tailor had made him up a bulk order; loose fitting, but conservative - the material still looked a little crumpled, the shop had held the fabric ream for a long time; it hadn't sold particularly well; and Clark had managed to negotiate a good price.

Taking the pants, he pulled them over his tights, and hitched up the suspenders. The pants hung a little short and too big.

Clark stooped, bending his knees slightly, he lost height, at the same time he pushed out the muscles of his stomach, distending his mid rift so his navel sat tightly against the waistband; giving the appearance of a rounded pot belly. He checked out his reflection.

In terms of height he had effectively shrunk a couple of inches, and at the same time this stoop - the angle of his shoulders - made him look less impressive; creating the illusion of a narrower frame.

For an average man holding this position for any length of time would be impossible, but Clark possessed incredible muscle control and effectively felt no fatigue; for him it was as easy as combing his hair a different way.

Clark did that too, his distinctive kiss curl was pushed up and back, and a plainer flatter look achieved.

Socks covered his red boots, oversized shoes fitted on top of both.

Dark tie, added to the sober conservative look, then the loose fitting suit coat further softened his physique.

Clark reached into the inside pocket and drew out a simple pair of thick lensed glasses, the large round frames softened his face, and lenses effectively eliminated the deep blue sparkle of his eyes. Tensing and relaxing his facial muscles added lines and an impression of age to his youthful features.

Finally a suitably worn fedora hat completed the transformation; gone was Clark Kent mid western beefcake, in his place was Clark Kent resident of Metropolis, a big but soft looking bookish man, who was the image of mundane conservative urban living.

Hitting the street Clark kept his head down and his pace regular, weaving through the morning hustle and bustle he made his way to the print district of Metropolis. Clark had formed a plan.

He was searching for a Star.

Clearly visible to the naked eye, it was a symbol that sparkled by day and shone at night; this was one of down town Metropolis's noted landmarks. The Star was the symbol of that great metropolitan newspaper, and king of the print district, the noted Metropolis Daily Star; the Star was a huge logo installed as the pinnacle of twenty-five stories of office space which in turn sat on top of large factory sized arched halls housing huge printing presses and a distribution centre, garaging trucks and vans.

Clark could smell the ink, the gasoline, paper and hot metal, the stink of hard working blue collar men, and he could hear over the noisy clatter of the presses their blue collar language.

Of course for rest of the people milling around the impressive Deco entrance hall of the Star Building these colourful details were lost behind tons of concrete and steel.

Clark entered an elevator. The bus boy waited for instructions, other travellers chimed in with various floors.

"Daily Star News Room please." Kent added.

The Star News Room was a floor in itself. The Elevators emptied into a reception lobby, distinct from the main News Room by virtue of partially glazed partition on three sides.

Clark made his way forward.

"Help you there?" He was a big man, heavy set, clearly building security. He had the uniform – one reminiscent of Metropolis City Police Department, and a side arm. Private security was a fact of life in the big city.

"Good morning." Clark purposely adopted a softer tone, with a hint of a mid western accent."I was hoping to see Mr Taylor, Mr George Taylor."

"Were you now, that would be Mr Taylor Editor in Chief of this here Newspaper."

"Yes that's right."

The guard reached for a notepad, he opened it. "You'd be on my list then, having an appointment and all?"

Clark shook his head apologetically. "Sorry Sir, I don't have an appointment, I was hoping he could find the time to see me – I'm happy to wait obviously."

"Obviously.

"You've got a hot story to tell him, some piece of gossip, a crime going down?"

"Errrm, actually I was looking for work.."

"Okay. Let me give you a piece of advice, this here depression means there isn't any work for nearly a quarter of the men in this city on any given day; so unless you've got some connections, you're not going to get anywhere – especially here.

"So really fella there is no point in cluttering up my lobby hanging around for an opportunity that ain't going to happen."

"Mister, look I've got to get a job in this paper... it's a matter of great importance..."

"Look here Okie. I've tried been nice, now I'm going to tell you straight; turn around and walk, or else I'll have to help you, and bub that's a helping hand you don't want."

"First up, I'm from Kansas, not Oklahoma, and second,..."

"Trouble Dan?"

The perfume hit Clark like an express train, he'd already smelled her long before she'd arrived, but he'd been distracted by the Guard. It was Chanel No.5, he could see the bottle in her purse - now that he was looking, and boy Clark was looking.

"Nothing I can't handle Miss Lane, this Okie is panhandling for a job – and he's just about to be leaving."

Lois Lane was immaculately dressed, fashionable, coordinated, her green suit was stunning, her raven hair shone, and her confident unusual violet eyes were piercing.

"Kent, Clark Kent."

Lois didn't take his hand. "Well Mr Kent, Clark Kent, you better get used to being called Okie, that's what Metropolis calls country people regardless of which corn-belt state they hail from."

Lois removed her gloves, not looking at Dan the security man's wide smile as he opened the door for her. Clark stepped forward to follow her. Dan's other arm blocked him.

Mean time Lois strode away.

"Dan. Mr Kent is with me. Let him come on in."

Dan's mouth dropped open. Lane had just called back to them, she wanted Kent to come in!

Of course what Dan did not know was Clark Kent was not only able to throw his voice, but he could pretty much impersonate anyone at the same time – both skills acquired through a childhood interest in practising magic; further facilitated by his ability to precisely control his supernatural vocal chords.

"You heard!" Clark said, side stepping Dan with unexpected smoothness he turned and winked at the Guard as he closed the News Room door behind him.

"Well I'll be damned." Dan said under his breath.

"Miss Lane." Clark called out, his walk an excited shuffle.

Lois turned around surprised. "How did you get past Dan?"

"I guess he had a change of heart." Clark replied.

"I doubt that." Lane replied. She frowned.

"Sure he did - he was totally persuaded by my magic sweet talking country ways."

Lois remained unconvinced, she saw nothing magical about this mediocre rather chunky man.

"So Kent, Clark Kent, what can I do you for?"

"You could do me the favour of pointing me in the direction of George Taylor."

Lois laughed. "That I will do, but that's no favour Kent - throwing Christians to lions. He's over there, that big office in the middle.

"And Kent, you didn't hear anything from me."

Clark had seen the name on the office door before he'd even entered the News Room; Lois was frosty and intriguing; but she had a darling laugh when she forgot to be hard nosed; and he was not going to pass up the opportunity of catching her attention; and if he were honest he felt a tinge of regret at disguising his masculinity, and playing down his good looks.

Taylor's secretary wore a specialist telephone receiver around her neck, and a head phones.

"I'm here to see Mr Taylor."

"Mr Taylor isn't expecting anyone until after lunch... Mr..."

"Kent. Errr, Lois Lane sent me over here."

"Miss Lane. Very Well. What's this in connection with Mr. Kent?"

"A job."

Taylor's secretary appeared genuinely surprised, but she flicked a switch on her desk. "Mr Taylor, a Mr Kent; he says Miss Lane has sent him to see you about a job." She flinched as Taylor barked a response, before gesturing to Clark to go ahead. "You may see the Editor now, but if you ask me you are wasting your time."

"There's nothing like trying!" Kent said to her as he rapped on the frosted glass of the Editors office door.

Taylor bellowed. "Come in!"

"Yes – who the devil are you?"

"Kent, Clark Kent."

"Don't know you. Haven't heard of you. What do you want?" Taylor barely glanced up, he was pouring over early proofs for the evening edition.

"Mr Taylor, Sir I know I'm new to Metropolis.

"I know I haven't any experience Sir, but still, I think I'd make a good reporter

"All I'm asking for is a break, an opportunity to prove myself."

"Lane sent you here!" Taylor spluttered. "What was that woman thinking!"

"I wouldn't say that she exactly vouched for me, she just gave me directions to the lions den as she put it."

Taylor laughed. "That's Lane all right. He interspersed words with a cigarette; drawing deeply each time.

"How did you get past Security Kent?"

"Same way I got around Lane Sir, charm."

Taylor stood up. He looked Kent over. "Charm you say, damned if I see it Kent, but you're here; and by rights I should have Dan across dragging you out of here, but." Taylor jabbed a finger at Clark.

"You're clearly not the fool you look.

"And I didn't get to be Editor of this here grand old lady, without recognising what makes a good story.

"And you Kent, well there's a story in you, I can smell it."

"Thank you Sir - I think."

"Look here Kent before you get excited - the truth.

"Sorry fella, can't use you.

"You've told me you're green, and I need hardened news hounds that can bring me stories that'll sell papers. But."

Taylor scribbled a number on a piece of paper.

"I'll do you a deal." he said, passing the note to Kent.

"This is the direct number to the news desk. You find a story, ring it in. Say your name, I'll warn the desk – so they'll take your call. If it's good, and we print it, on any page – then you can get paid per word - one story at a time.

"But fella if it's bad, and the guys on the desk are hard to please Kent, then you'll be blacklisted, and that's it – no more chances. Okay."

"Thanks Mr Taylor."

"Your welcome Kent. Now close the door on your way out."

"Mr Taylor."

"What? Still here Kent?"

"What happens if I make the front page."

Taylor looked up at Kent, he was half way through the door – his face serious and earnest.

"You got to be kidding me Kent! Seriously if you bring in a front page I'll do better than pay you by the word, I'll properly hire you. - Now Get Going!"


	16. Chapter 16

Walking down a side alley Clark Kent considered his options; his plan from the outset was a simple one – if he could get news stories promptly he would be in a better position to help people. I've got to get that job, he told himself.

Clark was not surprised with the frosty reception he received at the Daily Star. The Star's Guard Dan hadn't exaggerated the starkness of the this deep economic depression; the reality was clear to see; lines of unemployed men testified to the desperate times, and yet Taylor had come through in the end by giving Clark a lucky break of sorts.

Kent felt while he had shown initiative in getting this far, and he had done so without compromising the mild mannered persona he wanted Metropolis to see as Clark Kent. Equally he recognised that the offer Star's Editor had made was on the face it a real long shot - Clark needed to secure a front page story; and only then, providing Taylor was as good as his word, would Clark Kent have a real position at Metropolis's top newspaper.

Quickly he scanned the immediate area before removing his street clothes; first he drew a oilskin bag which was concealed inside a hidden pocket in his coat lining. At speed he folded and compressed his suit and shirt into neat package within the waterproof satchel, along with his tie and hat. Then his shoes folded flat with pressure, and slid into two pockets on the bag.

Standing at his full height he stretched his muscles, before springing upwards and catching the edge of the nearby building the caped man elegantly floated up and over onto the flat roof. Stashing the oilskin satchel here, he leapt upwards once more, powering himself into the void towards the Daily Star Building.

Hurtling through the air his aim was true and sure, and making contact with the concrete lintel his steely grip held him against George Taylor's office wall. Through the glass his super-sensitive hearing and x-ray like vision tuned into the goings on in the Newsroom, the caped man waited patiently.

Taylor was drinking bourbon, and occasionally cursing poor grammar and lousy syntax in the drafts in front of him.

His phone rang.

"Taylor here.

"What's that?

"Mob attacking Baker County Jail?

"Ah! Right get it - that's the trigger guy from the Kennedy Murder

"You don't say, thanks for the head's up, you're back on my Christmas list."

Taylor hit the intercom switch. "Alice get me Lane, tell her the Kennedy murder is making the news again! Tell her to hustle!"

On the side of the building a caped man launched himself in the air using the height of the Star building to further extend the huge reach of his mighty muscles. The hurtling red and blue figure covered the New Troy State Island in a series of tremendous leaps, slowing himself with his elastic cape - or so he believed - so that his impact on the individual buildings didn't cause unnecessary damage.

Clark Kent Reporter was thinking about the story, a headline which would impress Taylor, but his heart was driving him; the caller had made it clear there was an ugly lynch mob seeking to dispense it's own brand of vengeance – the man of tomorrow was driven by a sense of fairness and justice; simply, he hoped that he could get there in time.

Peering forward his superior eyesight made out the rabble who were attacking the jail's barricaded doors with a makeshift battering ram. The mob were chanting angrily, crying out; the man of tomorrow's superb hearing honing in the ruckus was able to make out the racial slurs and curses - the lynching was all the more sinister for it.

As the caped man descended closer, he recognised the sound of wooden doors breaking as the jails defences were breached.

Making landfall he made another tremendous leap, at the apex of his climb he saw the mob had all too quickly being able to get hold their intended victim – or rather the Jailers had all too easily given him up, he suspected the latter.

"Lemme go!" The terrified man begged. "I'm not guilty, I tell ya."

"Shut up nigger." A fist followed the insult.

"That'll teach ya, shoot a white fella would ya, think that give yer the right to be with a white woman?"

"She's going to fry tonight, for her part – and did you think we'd let ya live another day longer than her?"

"Should thank us Sims – you and her going to see each other real soon - you're both going to be burning in hell."

Sims cried out. "I'm innocent I tell ya, don't kill me!"

"That's right Sims! beg for mercy!"

"It won't do you any good. You're a dead man!"

Sims was dragged by the angry mob to a tree, where other conspirators had readied a rope and noose.

"Don't do this to me! Please – please!" Sims wept as the noose was slipped over his head.

The leader of the mob, the hammering fist, the lead accuser, stuck his angry face into that of his victim. He held up a Bowie knife. "Hanging is too good for you! Going to draw and quarter you all medieval like – then we're going to string up what's left of you!"

The mob whooped in appreciation.

Suddenly a fantastic figure hurtled down into the midst of the crowd. Hitting the ground hard, figures fall around him, shaken off their feet by the impact, those watching are shocked by the thunderous arrival of the caped man.

He stands defiant.

Men curse in disbelief.

"Disperse!" His voice is deep and resonates with authority. "Go on – Scatter!" He bellows stepping forward – one man faces the mob of sixty three committed men. Clark Kent Reporter notes.

"This prisoners fate will be decided in a court of justice. Return to your homes."

"Rush him!" The cry goes up.

The costumed figure dances through the mob, each blow a blur of controlled and measured force; men armed with bats, and bars, struggle to find their target, and when they do their blows simply do not matter for the blue and red man of steel shrugs all aside; and throws his attackers back, or else knocks them forward; others he hurls up and over, sending men limbs flaying, barrelling into one another; so that the mob tumbles into the dirt like so many skittles.

Quickly the fight is ended. Not a single man who stood with mob is left standing - every one of them is grounded with bruised bodies, and bruised pride; and at the same time not one man has suffered a beating serious enough to warrant the attention of a doctor. Equally none of them has the stomach for a second round with this incredible pugilist. Cautiously they get to their feet, individually or with help, shocked and disbelieving the evidence of their own defeat. The lone cloaked figure stands triumphant between them and liberated Sims.

"Disperse." He commands. This time they obey him – meekly limping away.

As the mob dissolves, the Guards from within the Baker County Jail emerge; the senior man approaches Sims and addresses his rescuer.

"Hey Mister – I don't know who you are; or how you did this – but you've got my thanks."

The man of Tomorrow turns and considers his answer, and he cannot but help feel disdain for these officers of the law. He could see although they were armed they hadn't drawn their weapons to defend a man in their custody who remained innocent until proven guilty.

"I'm,.. I guess you can say I'm with the Press. A reporter - Who are you?"

"I'm the Chief here, I head up Baker County Jail, and Sims; well he's my responsibility. I kind of need him back please."

"Very well - you should get Sims back inside his cell - if only for his own safety."

"Sure – of course." The Chief waved to his men to take hold of Sims. "By the way fella that's some fancy get up you're wearing. Are you some sort of Acrobat or something."

"Yes – I'm something all right. I want to talk to Sims."

The Chief considered this wasn't really a request. "Sure, I can't see why not."

Clark Kent reporter, should have by rights interviewed Sims, but his city clothes were still miles across town. So the costumed hero talked with the battered African American, and Sims was more than happy to talk.

"You saved my life Mister, and I'm not forgetting that in a hurry, listen I've a doozy of a story to tell ya; so listen up. I reckon you're the only guy who's big enough to believe it.

"I'm a good guy right, never done no one any real harm, but I was framed as the trigger man in this shooting.

"They reckon this sweet dame by the name of Evelyn Curry paid me to whack her main squeeze, this fella called Jack Kennedy – made out she was paying me in more than dollar bills if you follow me.

"I did a runner see; knew I was done for, I was been fingered for shooting a white fella and messing with his broad. Well long story short they caught up with me hiding out here in Bakers, but Evelyn, they had her from the start – she's been up in Court and found guilty; and they're going to electrocute her tonight."

"Tonight! And you say she's innocent."

"As God is my witness. I swear to you, neither me nor that girl had anything to do with Jack Kennedy getting done in."

As Sims talked his heartbeat remained steady and constant.

"Okay I believe you are telling the truth. So who is the murderer?"

"A singer over at the Hilow Night Club goes by the name of Bea Carroll. I worked there as a runner and go to fella sometimes. Any ways Jack used to pay Bea some attention, but then Evelyn appeared on the scene and he really fell for her, Bea hated that, worse Jack would bring her to the club, on account of it being his favourite hang out.

"So Bea gets me to come over to her dressing room, and she meets me outside, and she's telling me this story about an errand she wants me to run, so she gives me this envelope which I put in my pocket, and then suddenly she has this gun – she puts it into my hand; I'm like - lady what's the iron for?

"Next moment she throws the door open the door and there's Jack Kennedy shot in the back laying on her dressing room floor, and she's screaming blue murder, getting everybody to come running; and she's telling them all - saying I've shot him. Do you see?"

"Yes I do - The gun would have your prints on it – and the envelope; what was that?"

"Money – and a note, something Evelyn must had written saying thanks – something about a part payment and thanks for the help - don't know how Bea got hold of it. Worse of all I threw the envelope away in the club when I ran."

"I follow. You are seen by witnesses at the Hilow holding the gun; the Police recover the money in that envelope, and along with an otherwise innocent note; and this adds up to damning evidence against Curry."

"Sure Mister; I felt awful when I heard Evelyn had been found guilty, I never thought it would come to that. Turns out Bea made out she and Jack were getting together and Evelyn was getting the push, giving the cops a motive to pin on Evie."

Turning to leave the man of tomorrow thanked Sims. "I'll make this right – don't worry you'll be a free man again soon enough."

Taylor responded to the buzzing intercom. "Yes Alice. What is it"

"You wanted the News desk to ring through as soon as someone got back to them with the story from the Bakers County Jail riot..."

"Lane already, that's great."

"It's not Lane Sir, it's someone called Kent."

"Kent!

"Fine, put him through.

"Hello Kent? How the heck did you get yourself over's to Bakers?"

Clark ran through events of the lynching, except he skipped over his own part in the story.

"You're saying the guards, assisted by some civic minded citizen who persuaded the mob with and I quote 'a powerful argument' managed to save Sims from a lynching and put him back into Jail.

"And all this happens _after_ the lynch mob have busted that poor black fella out and are about hang him from the nearest tree?"

"Sure Mr Taylor."

"That's an argument I'd have like to have seen; they're a belligerent crowd over at Bakers."

"That's not all Sir, according to Sims, both he and the Curry girl are innocent; it was frame, and he's named a Bea Carroll as being responsible."

"Carroll the singer – why Lois Lane interviewed her. She gave evidence against Curry at her trial. Lane wasn't happy with Carroll's story; and that fact alone gives me pause for thought."

"I believe he's telling the truth Mr Taylor."

"Okay Kent I could see myself buying into this story – but while you might believe Sims, and it's a big but; a court has ruled different - and that pretty Curry girl is due to be executed tonight.

So Kent - good work - so far. If you want to make this a great piece of work, you'll need to prove that Sims is telling the truth, deliver me _that_ story – and it'll lead tomorrow's morning edition – get it to me in time for the presses - and you can report to work tomorrow.

"That's on the books Kent, a Salary, a Press card the works."


	17. Chapter 17

Lois paid the cab fare.

She stood outside Baker County Jail – and could see it was a wreck, the front double doors hung awkwardly, battered and broken, windows were smashed, and the evidence of the earlier mayhem was littering the street.

She picked her way up the steps to where the splintered doors were smashed wide open.

"Hello.

"Any one alive in here." She edged her way in.

"Hey Lady. What can I do you for you?" The Guard nonchalantly blocked her progress.

Lois smiled. "Well, you could help a girl out couldn't you?"

"Sweet potato like you, sure what's it's to be?"

"Just the low down on what happened here?"

"Hey... What's that to you? You're too good looking to be stuck with deadbeat jailbird."

"I'm Press." Lois flashed her card. "Just looking for a cute story. So is that Sims fella ok?"

"Sims? That's one lucky son of a gun; I tell you they had him all trussed up and ready to go, til that fella turned up."

Lois reached into her purse, note pad ready she battered her eyes. "What fella was this?"

The guard relaxed leaning against the wall, he smiled at the girl reporter. "Beats me – a strongman, maybe; any ways he was in something like a circus outfit, an acrobat even, sure moved like one.

"If I'd not seen him – well I wouldn't believe it, taking on the mob like that - lady there was like a hundred men maybe; they came at him from all sides, and he's like this blur, knocking seven bells out of them. Trust me doll I've been around and I've seen nothing like that."

Lois folded her pad.

"Sure. Nice story."

"Hey. That's what happened straight up – you can ask anyone."

"How about Sims?"

"Sims is out of bounds lady. Now I've told you straight, you can believe what you want."

His body language had changed; gone all cold and stand offish. Lois was surprised, she assumed he had been messing her around, but instead he seemed offended she hadn't bought his tall tale.

"But Sims is ok?"

"Told you that, he took a beating, but he'll live."

"So you're on the level? Sims was about to get lynched and this one man appeared and fought off a mob?"

"Look lady, I shouldn't say anything more, especially to a reporter, your butter and egg fly, but I can't afford to lose this job, so cut out the act."

Lois looked hurt.

"If you want to talk to some people hit the Baker boy's club, I reckon they'll be a few fellas there that 'might' have seen a something.

"But, just so you know; it's no a place for a lady."

Lois stopped in by a phone box.

Taylor took her call.

"Chief. Sims is still alive, he's back in his cell..."

"That's old news Lane, I've got that story."

"What?" Lane spluttered. "Who else did you have on this boss?"

"Now... Lois, don't spit fire; you're still my number one girl. A freelance called the story in – you know the score."

Taylor left the call.

"Alice?" Lois asked.

"Miss Lane."

"Put me through to the News desk again."

"Desk."

"Jake?"

"Yeah Lois. What can I do you for?"

"Who called in the Sims lynching story?"

"Wait a second... New guy, new freelance, a fella called, let me see, yeah Kent, Clark."

"Clark Kent?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

"Yeah I think I know him." Lois said slowly.

"Thanks Jake, catch you later."

"Sure thing, go get 'em Lane!"

Lois strolled into the Baker boy club, it was thick with smoke. Men drank beer huddled in booths, or perched on stools by the long bar. On closer examination a good number had bruised faces with as many wearing ripped and dirtied clothes. She crossed to the bar.

"Buy you a drink sweetheart?"

Lois smiled. "Bourbon - on the rocks."

The guy chuckled; but it was the empty kind of laughter that comes along with drink. He gestured to the Bar tender. "We don't see many sweet dames like you in this place. "

Lois waited for her drink. She took it, and downed it before replying. "That I'm sure of. Besides fella – I'm one of a kind."

He whistled. "Now is that a fact."

"Bet your life. Now tell me something, a beefy kind of guy like you – how is it you got that eye."

His lips drew thin, and he drank from his glass.

Lois persisted. "Looks kind of sore to me; makes me wonder what the other guy looks like."

"What's you heard, and why you asking." He said bluntly.

"Okay I'll play this straight with you - I work for the Star."

"I'm not talking to the papers lady." He said brusquely as stood to leave; he was shaky with drink.

"Wait." Lois grabbed his arm. "I'm not looking for a quote, or any names, I just want to hear from somebody what happened over at the Jail. Look what the guard over at County told me – well it was hard to believe."

"You wanna know! He slurred.

"Okay I'll tell you. One guy! One stinkin guy! Took all the baker boys on and rolled with us, took all us down without breaking a sweat.

"Satisfied lady?" He stumbled away.

Lois turned to the Bar. "I'll take another."

"Some advice?" the Tender suggested.

"Drink."

"Okay. Just one drink, and one piece advice." He said as he poured a shot of Bourbon.

"There's some sore fella's in here tonight; body and soul. No one can quite believe what went down today, and they certainly don't want the world to know about it either."

"You were there?"

"I wasn't and I was, I saw enough."

Lois took a drink. "And?"

He folded his arms.

"Sooner I know – sooner I'll go, no names, no quotes, you have my word."

The Barman nodded.

"I'll tell you this much: One man, bright blue suit, red cape, arrived like he'd fallen from the sky, last time I saw anything move like him, they was in a boxing ring."

"Sure the guard said he was like acrobat strongman." Lois sipped her cold liquor.

"Yeah that's fair – then again the last time I saw a get up like his was in one of those Saturday outer space serials."

Lois frowned. "And he beat back a mob; well these guys - single handedly."

The barman nodded once again. "Things I saw, I don't want to say. But the main thing I remember about him was this great big S symbol on his chest."

"S? What did that mean?"

The barman took her glass; he looked over to the exit. Lois reached for her bill fold. He took her dollar.

"The S? Wondered that myself. Truth is Miss - your guess, is a good as mine."


	18. Chapter 18

Clark settled down in the Hilow Club. It wasn't an especially classy joint, his lounge suit was good enough to get through the door.

"Can I get you anything Sir?" The waitress asked.

"Dry Martini Please." Clark replied.

"Anything else Sir?"

"No Thanks, except, perhaps you could please tell me when I can expect floor show? I'm hoping to see Bea Carroll doing some numbers?"

"Bea's due in soon, she usually comes on after ten."

"For how long?"

"Well about an hour, depends, I'll just get you that drink."

The waitress returned, placed the distinctive shaped tall stemmed glass before Kent. "You know you've a kind face kiddo, you're from the mid west right?"

"That's right Miss, I'm from Kansas." The Waitress was a quite a bit older than Clark. "You too, I'm guessing are from Pan Handle, Texas – I'd say."

"Rrrrrright," She laughed. "Takes one to know one I guess, though I thought I'd left that accent behind long ago."

"You have pretty much, but I've this great ear for voices."

"Look Mister, don't take this the wrong way, but Bea she isn't all sweetness and light."

"What do you mean Miss?"

"Just don't go there, take it from me, let me be a big sister here ok?"

"Thanks for the advice, really - but unfortunately I've got business with Miss Carroll. Worse she's proving a hard lady to find – so I got to ask; are you sure she'll show?"

"Well she gets around if you get my drift, but you can count on her doing her turn here; that's a certainty."

Clark looked at his watch. "Good because I'm working against the clock on this one."

"Honey that's another thing altogether; she's never on time – but don't fret she always shows up."

Bea swanned in late, and with a short introduction from the clubs band leader she began her first number. She sang well enough; she was a smoker, Clark could tell, the descriptions he'd been given were all pretty accurate. Bea was a fox – maybe that should be a wolf Kent decided.

Bea sang her songs, working through her set - before indicating she would sing just one more before taking a five minute break. Clark determined now was the time to act.

Carroll entered her dressing room, she made a bee line for the bottle of gin on the table; only to be startled by the stranger waiting for her.

"Say! What are you doing in here?"

"Waiting for you naturally."

"I thought people ran away to the circus - not from it."

She turned her back on him and poured herself a drink. "So your my special fan – right? I've a few of those. Some are just down the hall - so don't get any ideas.

"That said, you look kinda good in all that blue and red; you must be some sort of athlete right?"

Bea turned to look at him. "All those muscles. You look keen; and those eyes of your are just the best." She chugged the gin.

"Okay buster I have to make a costume change; so vamoose we can talk later maybe - if your lucky."

"I thought you might be interested in learning I know you killed Jack Kennedy."

Bea's manner changed from a confident cocky swagger, to anger, her eyes wide.

"What! I don't know what kind of nut you are but you better get out before I call the management."

"Sims told me everything. How you shot Kennedy, and how you framed him and Evelyn Curry."

"Sims! You believe a pack of lies from a fella like that!"

The Man of Steel folded his impressive arms. He was unmoved by Carroll's outburst.

She was a consummate actress; switching tack she turned on the charming body language once more, but the Man of Tomorrow saw through her illusion of confidence; he could hear her racing pulse, and smell her fear.

"Come on Sugar." Bea purred. "Think this over. You're an attractive guy – I'm a attractive gal, I'm sure we can become friends, forget this little misunderstanding; that's why you're hear isn't it?

"Y' know - couldn't we just 'talk' this over?"

"Lose the act. You're wasting your time; you're not going to charm me - I live to see justice done.

"I'm only interested in seeing you get what's coming to you."

"You see I _know_ Sims telling the truth Miss Carroll – just like I _know_ your standing with a gun behind your back. It's been in hidden close to hand since you made that drink."

Bea shrugged, and raised and aimed the pistol with a steady practised hand. "You'll regret butting into my business Mr Circus Man, or whoever you are."

"You'd shoot me dead right here, right now – just like Kennedy?"

"A stranger in a crazy get up?

"Come on fella – think about it; a gal shoots a mad bad rapist - who'd question that I acted in self defence."

"Miss Carroll honestly you're a danger to yourself not to me."

The Man of Steel confidence was overwhelming.

Bea snapped. "Fool! You really _are_ crazy, I'll give _you_ what's coming to _you_!

"Yeah, I killed Jack Kennedy and he deserved it, asked for it - just like you buster; but you're not going to tell anyone anything, ever, because you'll never leave this room alive!"

Bea snatches up a cushion.

"So that's how you silenced the gunshot last time!" The man of tomorrow's hand shot forward at great speed crushing the barrel of the automatic out of shape. "You little vixen!

"Here look at your gun now."

"How... "

Bea tried to run, but she felt a steely grip hold her fast.

"Are you ready to sign a confession? Or shall I give you a taste of how the gun felt the when I applied the pressure?"

"You wouldn't... You're hurting me."

Bea was right – he wouldn't do her lasting harm, but she didn't know that. "No Miss - you're hurting yourself. If you stopped trying struggle free, then you'd be fine."

Bea relaxed. She looked deflated.

"But if I confess I'll get the chair for sure."

"You should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you took a human life.

"But then again perhaps you did."

The Man of steel lifted the woman across to her chair and dressing table.

"Didn't you Bea?" He asked. "Which is why you are letting a innocent woman die in your place."

Bea struggled again, then with fire in here eyes she growled. "Go ahead you monster – kill me! Go on! I'm dead if I confess – dead if I don't - what's the point?"

The man of tomorrow's blue steel eyes pierced hers. "There are worse things than death."

"Think about it. "

Bea sat down. He let go of her arm and directed her to the dressing table."Make me a written confession now. There's paper in the drawer.

"Confess and tomorrow you'll be able to get yourself a good lawyer, and who knows - you might just get away with doing time, that's for the Court to decide.

"But I swear; if that poor girl dies for your crime, nothing on earth will protect you from me."

Bea cried a little. "There isn't time to save Evie... barely half an hour... they'll throw the switch at midnight and she'll be dead."

"All the more reason to stop stalling and start writing. Let me worry about the details."

Bea Carroll took the pencil he offered and began to write.

"Be sure to explain how you framed Curry and Sims." He demanded.

Finally satisfied the Man of Steel declared. "The Governor will be interested to hear what you have to say. You are coming with me."

Taking the struggling Carroll easily in his arms he jumps clear - diving through her dressing room window somersaulting into the street beyond.

"What are you doing!" Bea cries; her tears and screams of protest suddenly silenced as the Man of Tomorrow powers skyward. Far above the ground, this terrible agent of justice powers forward - leaping tall buildings in a single bound - relentlessly charging in the direction of the Governor's grand residence that lay outside of Metropolis uglier urban sprawl.

-'s'-

Lois Lane had her contacts on the ground to thank for the tip off, Clark Kent was looking for Bea Carroll.

Having interviewed Carroll Lois knew how she was connected to Sims, and the word on the street was that when the Cops found Sims hiding out in Bakers, he'd be adamant that he was innocent and had been stitched up.

It didn't take a genius to see that the Hilow's canary had to be connected. The best angle from the trial had been the love triangle, both Curry and Carroll claiming that Kennedy loved them. Curry had been a nervous wreck throughout her trial, and her lawyer hadn't let her take the stand. Lois interviewing Bea Carroll after the trial, had found herself having second thoughts about the justice of the guilty verdict, as damning as the evidence against Evelyn Curry had seemed in Court.

Lane had taken an instant dislike to the singer, seeing her up close Lois recognised an actress at work – her performance on the stand as a witness for the prosecution had been exactly that; an act. Was her story exactly that too – a make believe play for the jury?

Now this Kent character wanted to get to Carroll after beating Lane to News desk with the Baker County Jail lynching story – it all added up to the Okie knowing something new, and given Curry was a good as dead; this could be a big scoop – State executes innocent woman.

Lois checked her watch, elven thirty and Hilow club was pretty busy. It was the kind of dive Lois liked, not too flashy with atmosphere and a good band.

"Hey... I'm looking for a fella, six foot maybe, kinda chunky, dark blue suit, dark hair, glasses." Lois asked one of girls working the club's tables.

"Sorry can't say I have sister - we see lots of fellas in here."

Lois cursed Kent's blandness. She racked her memory for something that distinguished him from the rest.

"He's from Kansas." It was a lame shot, but it that was all that she remembered about him.

A older woman passed by, her tray full of collected glasses.

"A Kansas boy? You looking for a sweet kid with big ole' thick spectacles."

"Yeah that sounds like Kent."

"Well if it was you just missed him lady." The waitress shook her head and chuckled. "You his girl friend?"

"No." Lois replied. "He's.. a colleague."

"My Ma always said you should watch the quiet ones."

"Meaning?"

"Nothing sister, just well... First he's got business with our infamous canary Bea, and then you says he's working with a fox like you." The older woman winked.

"You say Kent had business with Bea Carroll? Is she here?"

"Sure. Well at least she should be.

"She should be doing a number on stage now. She took five – that was about ten minutes – no... maybe more like twenty minutes ago."

"And Kent?"

"Left before she finished the last song of her first set."

Lois thanked the Waitress for her help and hustled towards the back of the club, she had been here before in daylight and interviewed Carroll in her dressing room. Walking brazenly through the staff only door she made her way to where she remembered the Singer would be.

Throwing the door open Lane saw the room was empty, it's window open, no she corrected herself it was missing, the frame had been pushed out of the wall.

Her practised eye roamed the room. It was as she remembered, the pistol however caught her eye.

Lois picked the automatic up without a second thought, gloves were fashionable and practical, they meant no prints. There was something wrong - the gun was clearly misshapen, it's barrel twisted out of shape. Finger marks? It seemed impossible – incredible. She stretched her fingers, a hand bigger than hers, a man's hand – appeared to have left a clear impression in the forged steel. Was this some kind of comedy prop?

Lois stuck the gun in her purse.

Kent and the Carroll woman must have split. She looked out of the window, big jump, she couldn't see either of them wanting to take this route.. and then there was the fact it was really a gaping hole – with the debris below in the street; meaning the window had been kicked out from the inside.

Noisy fluttering caught her attention. The wind was catching the leaves of a pad of writing paper on the dressing table.

There was a pencil too, and Lois could see the impression of the last letter written left pressed into the top page of the pad.

It was an old trick, but a useful one that she employed, rubbing the pencil over the paper she could the read a copy of what had been written on missing sheet.

Lois gasped. Bea Carroll's signature sealed it, this was her confession to the Kennedy murder, and the framing of Curry and Sims. This was dynamite.

Carroll had a phone in her room. Lois wasted no time – she could have called the Star, but a woman's life was a stake, with the minutes ticking away.

"Metro' PD please, and hurry." She told the operator.

"Meropolis PD – How may we help you?"

"Put me through Detective McBrodie Please – extension 34."

"McBrodie here."

"Steven! Thank God your there. Remember the Kennedy shooting?"

"Lois? Yes I'm fine thank you, nice of you to ask."

"Steve, this is serious."

"So am I darling – we need to have dinner again,.."

"Steve! Evelyn Curry is about to go the chair, and I've got a copy of a signed confession by Bea Carroll to the Kennedy murder – get it! - Curry is innocent."

The Detective let slip an expletive.

"Let me try and get the Governor, the Commissioner – somebody. You're sure about this Lois?"

"This is Lois Lane Steven, of course I sure – that Carroll woman was never genuine; I told you that I didn't rate her."

"Okay I'll try. But don't hold your breath, dammit."

"Steve?"

"Honestly darling the last headline I want read is that we've sent an innocent woman to her death, but getting hold of our beloved Governor at this late hour; believe me given his rules - that's going to be impossible."

-'S'-

The tireless figure races through the night, seconds count, delay means the forfeit of an innocent life.

Finally at the Governors estate, The red and blue Man of tomorrow ensures that Bea Carroll is suitably restrained. "Make yourself comfortable, I've an appointment to attend to."

The Governor's Butler is alarmed by the heavy pounding that shakes him awake. He hears the commotion downstairs at the front door. Rising grumpily he makes his way in his night clothes to investigate; reluctantly he opens up. "What do mean knocking on this door - at this hour of the night? How did you get past the security gate?"

The Man of Steel is in no mood for a lecture on manners. "I must see the Governor immediately. It's a matter of life or death."

"See him in the morning - if you can!" The angry and tired the Governor's man shuts the door in the brightly dressed stranger's face.

The locked door explodes as the Man of Tomorrow pushes it open again.

"I'll see him now! This is a matter of life and death!"

Terrified the the Butler cowers. "This is illegal entry – I'll have you arrested."

"Answer me my question; are you going to take me to the Governor?"

"No. No I won't."

The Man of Tomorrow's supernatural vision determines immediately where the Governor lays sleeping. He has a good reason for wanting the butlers help – and he acts decisively. "All right – then I'll take _you_ to him."

Lifting the startled man above his head, single handedly the Man of Steel bounds up the stairs, and across the upper hall stopping outside an imposing metal door. "I know this room is secured with a combination lock; and I'd rather you to open it."

The Butler composed himself quickly once his feet were back on the floor. "Yes this is the Governor's sleeping room; but I'm not opening it for you. Now come on man, you really don't think you're getting away with this outrage!"

"Last chance before I use force!"

"You fool! This room is locked shut behind high grade steel." The butler laughed gleefully. "Your clearly some kind of vaudeville strongman, impressive as you are against wood and all - I'd like to see you try and knock this door down!"

The Man of Tomorrow's mighty fingers thrust explosively between the heavy steel door and it's frame grasping the metal, he pulls decidedly twisting and wrenching the buckling steel free.

While turning to the stunned man saying with a wry smile. "Well it was your idea."

Rising from his bed the Governor was unsurprisingly now bolt awake. "What's going on!" he demanded. Using a bedside switch he illuminated the room.

"What in God's name are you! And what have you done to my door?"

The Man of Tomorrow walked over and offered up the signed confession of Bea Carroll to the senior man. "Evelyn Curry is due to be executed in 15 minutes for a murder she didn't commit. I have proof here of her innocence – a signed confession by the guilty party – explaining how she framed Curry and Sims for the shooting of Jack Kennedy."

Behind them as the Man of Tomorrow explained his actions the alarmed butler opened a specific drawer in search of a weapon.

"Reach for the ceiling quick you whacko!" The Butler aimed a pistol at the man of steel. "You're a menace, and I'm not going to let you harm the Governor!"

Turning to face him the Man of Steel wasn't impressed. "Put that toy away. You're more likely to hurt the Governor or yourself."

"I warn you step back or I'll shoot."

Panicked, the butler let rip with the gun, shooting the caped man at point blank range.

The bullet ricocheted of the invulnerable Man of Steel, and in the same moment, the butler finds his gun is wrenched from his grasp. "Stop playing around, and sit down." The caped man orders.

The Governor coughs loudly.

The Man of Tomorrow turns around passes him the bent and misshapen gun. "Sir, don't you realise I have proof of this woman's innocence – and only your word can save her!"

"Let me see that paper." The older man demands. "I need to read this evidence for myself.

Examining the detailed confession, the politician comes to a quick conclusion. "Ye gods, you weren't lying. I recognise this name. This is the woman that testified against Curry.

"You are a remarkable fellow, and you've convinced me this is grounds for a stay of execution."

Moment's later the Governor makes the all important call, with only minutes to spare.

Across at the State Penitentiary a cry goes up "Stop! The Governor has pardoned Evelyn Curry!"

And a desperate relieved woman weeps uncontrollable tears of joy; declaring again her innocence - happy in the knowledge she is to live another day.

-'S'-

The Taxi delivers Lois Lane to the gates of the Governor's Estate. Headlights and spot lamps illuminate the night; a collection of Patrol cars have assembled by the Road side.

Lois approaches.

"Hey Miss Lane, how do you do it?" The Police Officer asked, leaning on his open Patrol car door.

"Hi Curly, you know me, never miss a story."

"You must have hustled it from the City to get here so soon. I didn't even know they'd made the Governor's decision to save the Curry girl public."

"She's alive?" Lois gasped.

Curly looked upset. "Shoot Miss Lane you do it to me every time. I thought you must already know all about what's been going – you turning up here so soon and all."

"Don't sweat Curly, I knew she was innocent. I saw a copy of the real murder's confession about fifteen minutes before Evelyn Curry was due to go the chair. What I don't understand is how Governor Anders learned that it wasn't Curry that shot Kennedy."

"Beats me Miss Lane. All I know is that Carroll woman that did it was tied up in the Governor's house when we got here; we just sent her down town to get processed."

"Curly, button it."

"Detective." Lois smiled a warm greeting for the tall blond and ruggedly handsome cop.

"Sorry Steve. But it is Miss Lane..." Curly blurted.

"Lois leave the poor schmuck alone." McBrodie said with a smile; saying to her, "I thought I told you to go home, and specifically _not_ to come out here."

"Oh, is that what you said. The line _couldn't_ have been very good. I mean I thought you said that your Commissioner wasn't to be found; and that you _couldn't_ raise the Governor, on account of his do not disturb after hours policy; but low and behold someone did it – Curry's alive, and Carroll in custody!

"So was it you? Or maybe it was Kent?" Lois demanded.

"Whose Kent?"

"Would-be Reporter, you not seen him – chunky guy with specs?"

"Can't say I've seen any reporters, save of course you - and before you start on me - again, I told you the truth on the phone. I didn't get hold of the Governor, and while the Commissioner was found - that was after the event, as it happens, because Anders had already made the call."

"How? If it wasn't you that told him, and it wasn't Kent then..."

"It was somebody else Lois. Now I'm sorry Doll you know how it goes – no comment at this stage – right?"

"One question Steve."

"Lois!"

"Well Okay – there's a bunch of them.

"How is that Bea Carroll was seen still singing on stage at 11:15pm in the HiLow Club; was seen entering her dressing room a little after that – and yet ends up here?

"How is that she manages to get across town so fast? What she do - fly?

"Then there is this confession that's saves Curry, and implicates Carroll. How is it that Governor Anders – who famously doesn't permit his precious sleep to be disturbed – is persuaded to look into this?

"And biggie is - all this has to happen in no time at all. See Steve there was only about maybe thirty minutes left before midnight and yet all this happens – it doesn't add up."

"Let's just say we're looking into that."

Lois countered. "Let's just say I might already have an idea."

McBrodie looked at his sometimes girlfriend with an exasperated expression. "Fine – What do you know."

"Maybe you'd like to read all about in the Star."

"Lois this isn't a game. The State Governor's had his house broken into, the Commissioner of Police is up there now getting a dressing down over the Curry business; we'd have all looked like fools if an innocent woman had got the chair - and if you know something about this..."

"The Mansion's security was breached? That's interesting."

"Dammit Lois – your taking advantage of our friendship.

"Look I've orders from the Governor, from the Commissioner, to find out about..."

"About what?"

"Lois – if you know something spill. This is official, withholding information is a crime."

"Steven McBrodie! You'd arrest me?"

The cop folded his arms and stared.

"Okay buster. Earlier today I was over at the Baker County Jail, I talked to some people."

McBrodie nodded. "Yeah I heard there was ruccus – some sort of a mob making trouble. Last I heard the Jail reckoned it had all blown over."

"Yeah right, something blew something over for sure."

"And?"

"And if the Governor wants to know what I know; then I want to be the one to tell him."

"You got to be kidding, it's the middle of the night – and you want to do an interview?"

"Either I get to see the big man, or you can cuff me, take me down town and wait for the Star's legal department to come and get me, and we can argue about journalistic integrity and my right to protect my sources in court."

Lois entered the Governor's Mansion. It was straightforward enough there wasn't a door to interrupt her progress; that lay in pieces on the tiled floor of the spacious entrance hall. Uniformed Police were standing around looking at it.

"Officer."

"Yes Sir?"

"Where's the Governor?"

"He's still on the first floor Detective, with the Commissioner."

Lois followed McBrodie up the broad staircase. He led her along the landing and towards a gaping hole in a damaged wall.

"That's a metal door!" She exclaimed pointing at the twisted steel on the floor. Mentally pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

McBrodie stuck his head into the room beyond.

"Excuse me sir, but I have a Lady, a Reporter who claims to have information about tonight; but she refuses to divulge this to anyone but the Governor."

Lois heard the familiar baritone of the senior politician. "Detective - I'm not accustomed to inviting strange ladies into my bedchamber in the the middle of the night, but in the circumstances, I think I can take the risk.

"Come on in - although I would warn your lady reporter that while I am appropriately clothed for sleeping, I am however not really dressed to receive visitors."

The moustached Anders smiled when he saw Lois.

"Miss Lane of the Daily Star. Always a pleasure to see you young lady, how is it I am not surprised that you'd be the Reporter in the know.

"As you see – please excuse my Pyjamas and dressing gown."

The rotund Police Chief was as abrupt as ever. "What can you tell us about this vigilante Lane?"

"Now Commissioner, let's not insult the man, he really hasn't broken any laws." Governor Anders interrupted.

"Excuse me Governor but I see illegal entry, and property damage for starters."

"Well Chief, wearing my lawyers hat, I'd say you'd never make that stick, just like a fire fighter can break into a house to put out a fire, his actions, driven as they were, to save an innocent woman's life, were justifiable under law.

"But, that said – What do you know Miss Lane about our mystery man?"

Lois swallowed, this was it, her gamble better pay off. "We're talking about a man in blue costume with a red cape, and this big S on his chest."

The Governor nodded. "Yes – you've seen him too I take it."

Lois side stepped. "What I know is that this mob over a Bakers, got it into there heads to lynch Sims.

"Sims as I'm sure you know was identified by Carroll as the gunman who shot Kennedy. Sims had been on the run until early yesterday, when he was finally arrested out in Bakers. The word on the street was he'd also been carrying on an affair with Curry; this rumour and the courts saying it was a murder of white by a black man got the mob riled.

"The beef is this, the mob got their man, I don't know what the Guards were doing, but any way the Mob was ready to string Sims up when this super-man appears out of nowhere..."

"Superman!" The Governor siezed on Lane's words. "Is that his name Miss Lane?"

Lois thought for a second, she remembered the bartenders at Baker boy club saying 'the S?.. your guess, is a good as mine'.

"I haven't confirmed that Sir, but given the S symbol he sports - it seems to fit the bill."

The Senior man nodded. She continued.

"So ok, errm... Superman wades into the middle of the mob, and in a matter of moments there isn't man among them left standing. He saves Sims life. From what I hear Sims names Bea Carroll as the murderer, and I'm guessing he told big and blue and red.

"Next thing is after some leg work, I'm standing in Carrolls dressing room at the Hilow club looking at a bust window, and then there's this."

Lois reached into her purse and brought out the twisted automatic pistol.

"I wasn't sure what to make of this, until I saw that security door; and then it made sense, if Superman is super enough to tear that down, super strong to bend it like that, he could sure do this to a gun."

The Governor reached into the generous pocket of his dressing gown. He drew out similarly warped iron.

"Snap Miss Lane. My Butler – Smith, he pulled this revolver on Superman, obviously thinking the worst of him, now what happened I'm not sure, but Smith swears he shot this Superman a point blank range. Hit or miss – either way Superman wasn't harmed. Taking the gun from Smith he bent this barrel in much the same way as the one you have there."

McBrodie touched her arm. "Tell them about the timing problem."

"Ok Steven.

"The other thing Sir, is that I'm sure I just missed meeting Carroll and Superman, because I was in the Hilow club at around eleven thirty; Bea Carroll was overdue returning to the stage after taking a short break during her performance – so we're still talking minutes here.

"That means I think that this Superman somehow transported Carroll across town, and open country in a matter of maybe ten, or twenty minutes, getting here in time for you to stop the execution."

"Well Commissioner that seals it doesn't it. Carroll isn't mad when she claims Superman flew her from the Hilow club, all the way over here."

"I still find it hard to believe Sir."

"As unbelievable as it seems, the facts speak for themselves – and we now have no reason to question Carroll's sanity nor the veracity of her confession.

"Tomorrow I'll have to tell my staff that I'm left thinking I can't believe my senses! Bent steel, leaving Metropolis and getting here in minutes – I tell you Miss Lane I wish I could fly between here and City Hall!"

Anders looked more serious. "Clearly Superman isn't human – rather he's super human; and thank God he's apparently on the side of law and order and justice.

"Now Miss Lane. How is the Star going to handle this incredible story?"

"That'll be the Editor's call Sir. All I do is write the news as it happens."

"And you do Miss Lane, you surely do."


	19. Chapter 19

Clark Kent left his apartment and made his way to the street.

Last night he'd called his big scoop in to the News Desk of the Star; reporting that Governor Anders had stopped Evelyn Curry's execution, and that the Police had Bea Carroll in custody in connection with the murder of Jack Kennedy. He felt he clearly satisfied George Taylor's demands.

Today he expected to start at the Daily Star as full Reporter, with a wage, and a Press card, and most importantly unfettered access to the huge new gathering machine that was Metropolis's leading daily paper.

"Wow buddy – look at this the Curry girl is innocent according to the Star."

Kent recognised his neighbour coming home from his night shift.

"Really? Please can I look at that?."

Kent looked at the Headline. In seconds he absorbed the article, two things pleased him, and one puzzled him. His byline was there, 'Reporting by Clark Kent ' and there was no obvious reference to his actions in costume.

Good! he thought, I'm not mentioned.

What he didn't understand was the byline – additional reporting Lois Lane, and the inclusion of the text of Bea Carroll's confession. Somehow Lane had got hold of this word for word.

Clark was impressed; and concerned, clearly Lane wasn't just a pretty face, she was a good reporter, he would have to be careful around her, or risk exposing his double identity and the advantage that this gave him.

Clark walked into the Newsroom of the Star. He was immediately intercepted by a man he recognised as a fellow reporter.

"Kent, given those glasses – it's got to be?"

Clark nodded.

"Good. I thought so; glad you're here, glad you're early – good sign." The big man yawned. "Me I've yet to get to bed." He gestured across the Newsroom.

"Taylor wants to see you in his office straight away, that's like now - hustle buddy, the Chief's all steamed up about something.

"And Kent - congratulations on your first front page; and welcome to the team by the way ."

"Thanks..."

"Get moving Kent! I'm Lombard, in case you're wondering, and my top tip for your first day is: Never keep the Chief waiting."

Kent hustled. Greeted Alice, who just pointed towards her boss. Clark knocked and entered the glazed Editor's Office.

Taylor lent back as Kent opened the door. "Sit down Kent." He said

Clark took a chair in front of the big desk. Seated across from them was a immaculately turned out Lois Lane; not that she fooled him, he could see through her make up, she was dog tired, running on adrenaline, and her heart beat was raised. Something was exciting her; and Taylor for that matter.

Yet they were playing it cool. Clark relaxed in the chair; hiding his concern.

"You wanted to see me Mr Taylor?"

"My Reporters call me Chief."

"Sorry Chief. Does that mean I'm officially on the team?"

"Depends Kent. Can't say I haven't hired you. You delivered a front page, just like I asked; but that doesn't mean I won't fire you just as fast."

Clark looked puzzled. He genuinely was.

"You ever heard of Superman?"

"What! I mean who – who is super-man?"

Taylor gestured to Lane.

Lois looked Clark in the eye, at least she looked at his thick lenses.

"Superman is what people are calling the fella you didn't describe in your first freelance piece. Remember that one - buried on page four of yesterday evenings edition. You called in the Baker County Jail riot. What you reported was that 'a civic minded citizen persuaded the mob to disperse with a powerful argument'.

"What actually happened was Superman punched out every single rioter, and saving the alleged Kennedy shooter - Sims from a lynching."

Taylor picked up the lecture. "You see Kent, you failed to communicate the nuance of this Superman's compelling argument in your otherwise very accurate – well let's be honest _dry_ report of what went on." He lent forward and pointed a finger. "Thing is Kent I want to know what is going on between you and this Superman character, why didn't you report this story? Dammit man – Superman is the story; a front page in itself."

"You're right Mr Taylor I didn't mention Superman."

"Why Kent? Don't you want to be Reporter?"

"Chief, look it from my point of view; I didn't know what to think – I'm green, I'm an unknown quantity to you, and imagine it - I ring into the News desk with a tall tale of a super-man beating up a gang of thugs?

"I mean would you have given me the time of day? This is the Daily Star, not some penny rag with stories of aliens and ghosts and such. I thought you'd laugh me out town.

"Look I can see why - when Lois found out about... Superman's appearance – why you'd listen to her, she's a tremendous Reporter – with a great record. But me - I'm just a fella from Kansas looking for a break."

"Okay Kent that sounds fair – but what about this business with Bea Carroll? Taylor asked. "You were the first Reporter to call in the story that the Curry girl had been reprieved by the Governor, how do you explain that."

Clark looked at Taylor and then at Lane; he could tell by their posture, their pulse, their attitude, that there was something as yet unspoken going on. He knew for sure Lane had got a copy of the Carroll confession to Taylor; what does Lois know he wondered.

"Chief my source was Superman." Stick with the truth Clark, his Mom had always told him.

"You know Superman?" Lane asked.

"We talked after the Baker County Jail Riot, he told me Sims was innocent, what Sims had said – he then said he was going to prove it; and if I wanted that story I'd keep him out of the papers.

"Given that I didn't think I could sell the whole 'man takes on a mob single handed and wins' angle – I thought it was a fair deal – that I'd get a real headline story if I played it Superman's way."

"Why were you at the Hilow Club?" Lois asked

"I was trying to get to Bea Carroll, since Sims had named her as the guilty party. I was going to talk to her but Superman got there first. I let him do his thing.

"Later he called me, gave me the scoop as he'd promised, and I called the Star with the story."

Taylor relaxed. "Okay Kent. I'm sold – you made sense."

"Then I'm still hired?"

"Yes. Truth is Kent I had a hard enough time believing Lois when she told me about Superman."

Taylor raised a hand to Lois stopping her before she could speak – she sulked offended.

"If it hadn't have been for Governor Anders calling me himself – asking me not to go public with the Superman story, until he had chance to brief the State Authorities, I wouldn't have believed any of this."

Lois wasn't going to stay quiet. "So what now chief?"

Taylor kicked back. "Isn't it obvious. I'm making this your steady assignment."

"Covering Superman?" Lois asked obviously pleased.

Then Taylor surprised them both, saying. "You think you can handle it Kent?"

Lois looked dumbstruck.

"Chief if I can't find out anything about this Superman – no one can." Clark stated confidently.

"Taylor laughed. "I didn't mean covering reports of the guy with a cape Kent. I reckon you're ahead there already.

"Really I meant can you handle Lane?"

"What do you mean George?" Lois demanded. She glared at Taylor.

The Editor of Star smiled. "This is your steady assignment – both of you – Kent clearly has the connection – he's won Superman's trust; he's good at the details – he's accurate.

"Lane you're all fired up as usual and your the best damn Reporter, man or woman, that's ever hustled me; so that's how it is – you're both already all over this story, so you can work together on this Superman thing - or not at all."

"Chief!"

"Lois – don't push it! Yes or No?"

"Yes." She replied quietly fuming.

"Kent?"

"Working with Miss Lane will be a honour Chief." Clark answered as Lane stormed out.

Taylor laughed. "Better run Kent, if wanna keep up with that dame, you'll have too."


	20. Chapter 20

Taylor had not been joking Kent reflected; he did need to hustle to keep ahead in this fast changing game; things hadn't played out as he had planned. He wasn't sure what the rules were yet, and even which side his new 'partner' was really playing for. Would Lois's investigative flair lead her to him – would she discover his secret? If so would she expose him?

'Superman' Lois had called his costumed alter-ego. He hadn't considered taking a name; maybe it that was down to his inherited mid western conservatism: adopting a title bestowed on you by your peers was one thing, creating one felt like an act unbridled pride; and pride came before a fall his Mom would say.

He watched Lane exiting across the Newsroom floor. She moved with like a movie star, dressed to wow in high heels and pencil skirt, add in a matching tailored jacket that kicked out from under the neat colour coded belt, and a delicate hat pinned in place – she looked like one too.

"Any of you News Hounds want a tip?" Jake asked. "Come on, I know it's early... Kent?"

"I'm with Lois..."

"That ship has sailed 'Mr Front Page' – do you want this tip or not?"

"I let Lombard have it, but he's away in dreamland over there."

Kent could see the journalist asleep, you didn't need good ears to hear the loud snoring.

"All right what's the lowdown?"

"I just got a tip from my buddy down at Metro-PD; they've just had a small time operator by the name of Connor in the cooler overnight on a drunk and disorderly, they've let him walk on account they reckon he's running with a real bad crowd – Matson's gang; they're hoping he'll lead them to bigger fish.

"My pal reckons he left them in a foulest of moods – like he was spoiling for a fight. Thing is Kent he has reputation for beating on his wife."

"Do you want it? - Could be lead into something bigger?"

"Okay Jake I'll take it, where to?"

"211 Court Avenue is the home address - either there on any bar between there and Metro-PD Central."

Clark left the Daily Star Building, but Superman arrived at Court Avenue. The red and blue blur wasted no time in scanning the tenement with his exceptional senses. Connor was home. Jake's pal was spot on - Connor was angry; he was blind with rage and he was already taking his senseless anger out on his wife.

Superman's reaction was swift. He bit down hard as he struggled with his righteous indignation; from boy to man he understood that only the lowest of the low raised his hand to a woman. From pulling pigtails to punching seven bells out a terrified mother, Superman saw a bully and coward.

The Man of Steel didn't wait to try the door, he smashed through it like a wrecking ball.

"Hold it!" He roared.

Connors looked around startled; he held his belt above his head. Not satisfied with his fists he was lashing the woman at his feet with the folded leather strap.

"What do you want?" He snarled. "Get out of my house. I'll have the law here, you can't break into a man's place, this ain't any of your business."

"As soon as you struck her, you made this my business." Superman strode to face the ugly tempered thug.

"Don't get tough fella! Just head on back to what ever sideshow you tumbled out of – and keep out of my face."

Connors jabbed the Man of Tomorrow's chest, but found himself hoisted to head height with one hand.

Superman held the failing spitting bully at arms length. "Tough is putting mildly the treatment you've you're going to get – unless you simmer down and give up all you know about Matson's operation."

Connors responded with a torrent of foul mouthed expletives.

Superman roared back at him. "You're not fighting a woman now!" Full of just anger the Man of Tomorrow hurled Connors against the opposite wall. Connors's back smacked hard, plaster broke away from the wooden lattice behind covering him in dust, sliding down onto his ass, he sat stunned.

Superman approaches the winded man, waiting for him to finishing coughing and gasping.

"Give it up." He warns.

Beside Connors lay the contents of the kitchens utensil draw, and grabbing a cooks knife, the angry fool drove at the Man of Steel, and with considerable force boosted by rage driven by fear, Connors thrusts the Knife downwards striking at Superman's heart. With a sharp snap the blade breaks!

He gasps and stares open mouthed at the broken blade, the heavy knife useless against Superman's invulnerable form.

"Now I'm going to give you a lesson you will never forget Connors." Superman said coolly.

Wide eyed Connors shook, his face paled, and then he collapses. For a moment Superman let's him fall, but his strength of character prompts his actions always, and at the last his powerful hands catch Connors before he smashes to the floor.

"Fainted!" Superman observes, before his superhuman hearing detects the rapid approach of heavy footsteps.

In whirling blur Superman reaches under his cloak where he'd attached the waterproof satchel to the back of his elastic costume; he empties it of the compressed clothing, first the bulkiest items – his shoes. Then with the balance and poise of a dancer the caped man dons his street-clothes and vanishes replaced by Clark Kent.

By the time the Police arrive, alerted into action by Connors Neighbours Superman has vanished, leaving Clark kneeling by the unconscious man.

"What are you doing here?"

"Captain.." Clark observed the high ranking officers rank by his insignia.

"Blake. Metro-PD Central. Who the hell are you?"

"Kent, Clark Kent." He stood and flashed his press card. "Reporter with the Star."

"Don't know you Kent." The Captain holstered his gun, he gestured to the two accompanying officer's to check out Connors.

"Here's a heads up Mr Kent. I'm what you'd call the Sheriff in these parts, I ask the questions, and people give me the answers. So – once more; what are you doing here?"

"Just arrived myself, found the place like this, saw this caped man going out the window as I was coming through what was left of the door.

"I guess it looks like our friend Superman has dropped in to pay this fella a visit."

"You're lucky Kent, I've been put in the picture about this Superman; one my boys would be running you down town, Star Reporter or not; but I'm interested what do you know?"

"I covered that business that went down over at the Governor's Estate; that's all.

"Mind if I talk to the wife?"

The Captain seemed satisfied yet displeased. "Go ahead, I doubt you'll get much out of her, she loves this waste of space regardless."


	21. Chapter 21

"Lane - I thought you and Kent were chasing down Superman." Taylor asked.

"I'm making some calls now Chief. Leave it with me I can get this story."

"Yeah? Kent's making calls too. Except he's ringing _in_ with a Superman story, not sat here chasing could haves and maybes."

Lois bit her lip. "Sorry Chief. Guess running around last night took more out of me than I thought. I should maybe take a leaf out of Lombard's book and get some beauty sleep while I'm at it."

Taylor laughed. "Nah, Lane, take one look at that lug, sleeping here never made him any more beautiful – and the thought of two lookers like Lombard is more than my poor heart can take.

"But seriously Lois, give Kent a break, I'm not asking you to marry the guy and have his kids, just stick with the assignment; two heads are better than one. Cover the ground apart if you must, but make sure you're working together – get it?"

"Righto Chief, Understood."

"Good. Well here's your chance; when Kent gets back I want you two to work up a piece to lead tomorrow's paper – I'm thinking a big Superman headline – So start scribbling. I want all the strands from last night tied together - but this time lets put big blue and red in the middle of it all.

Taylor read the prose the two Reporters has submitted. "You type this Kent?"

"Yes Chief – is it Okay?"

"Kent it's great. I'm tempted to fire you and then hire you on the proof-desk; and that's a threat by the way if you don't shape up.

"The pace and style of the piece - that's clearly Lois Lane; that's the fire I wanted."

"Thanks Chief."

"Save it Lois, I'm thinking I might just get Kent to sit down and teach you to use a type writer properly."

Lois pulled a face.

Taylor pulled out at mock-up of the Star's front page.

"This is how I see it."

A banner headline ran across the top of the page under the Daily Star motif. 'Announcing the newest wonder of the world!'

Then in triple height banner headline 'Superman!"

Then yet another banner headline. 'Governor Anders confirms existence of superhuman agent of justice!'

"I just wish we had a decent picture to run with. I hate to admit it but the Picture Post is eating into our circulation with it's image led format."

"I guess if it's pictures you want then we're going to have run with a camera. Maybe we'll get lucky." Lois suggested. "Kent here apparently managed to catch a glimpse of Superman this morning. "

"Thanks but no thanks Lane. You're better with a typewriter than you are with a camera. What about you Kent?"

Lois stuck her tongue out at the back of Taylor's head.

"Can't say I've taken many pictures Mr Taylor. I could try."

"Forget it for now. Stick with learning this reporting gag; I want to see Lane's fire in your belly and on the page.

"I'll guess I'll have look into finding someone to run with you. Should be some fella in Metropolis that can take a picture and wants the work. Until then we'll just go with what we have."

"Is that it Chief, are we done?" Lois asked.

Taylor blew a smoke ring and nodded, waving them back to the News floor.

Lois kicked back in her chair. "Well Kent, that's the end of your first full day. I sure hope things stay as interesting now you're here."

She laughed.

"What's so funny." Clark asked.

"Just that you 're so well... y' know square – and yet exciting things happen around you.

"Oh I'm sorry Kent that wasn't so kind of me.

"I'm tired."

"Okay Lois – I think I understand – Why don't I just take that as a compliment - but I'm sorry too, sorry that you're tired, you see I was wondering Lois,

"Wondering if you'd come dancing with me tonight?"

"Why Clark – are you asking me out on a date?"

"Would that be so terrible?"

"Thank you, that surprised me. I really didn't think you'd be the sort just to ask a girl out."

"What do you mean?"

"I had you pegged a the 'cautious lets be friends' type

"Shoot Clark - I guess I'm not making this partnership thing very easy; but that's my point, we work together, and it wouldn't be professional of us to step out together too."

"Oh, I see, but what if I told you I had ulterior motives?"

"Clark Kent – what would your Mother say!"

Clark looked shocked. "Nooo. I mean well, you're really very attractive and I mean..."

"Stop digging Kent. Just start over."

Clark took a deep breath.

"Y'know my Superman scoop."

"Yes Kent rub the salt in why don't you."

"I didn't mean..."

Lois interrupted. "Just tell me what your thinking".

Clark adjusted his tie. "Well I spoke to that poor woman; Mrs Connors, the battered wife, she wasn't easy to talk to, but I did manage to learn something."

"And?" Lois asked.

"Well I wanted to check it this evening – that was my other motive."

"So this date you had planned out was really work?"

"Yes; errm maybe I hoped we'd have some fun too. Is that so bad?"

Lois laughed. "Wait let me grab and coffee. You want one?"

"Thanks."

"Okay. There you go Kent, shoot. What did the Connors Woman say?"

"Sadly it went along the lines that her husband wasn't a bad man, that it was her fault because she made him mad, and so on – but then she told me that Connors had a job; y' know as if it made everything all right. She was real proud of that. She told me he was working as a doorman at a joint called the Atlantis Club and since the Cops have Connors running with Matson."

"Hey Okie my boy! Good work!" Lois beamed. "Word is Matson is muscling in on that place."

"Yeah that's what the News desk said; doesn't this pretty much seal it – Matson must be using the Club as his latest front."

"So you were going to take me down to the Atlantis to see if you could pick up any leads, and thought you'd stand out less if you were on a date?"

"Lois you make it sound like I'm just trying to use you to get a story."

She smiled. "You might yet make it as Reporter Clark Kent.

"Maybe that gal was right about me having to watch the quiet ones?"

"Pardon?"

"Don't worry your head cowboy – I was thinking aloud. Look. I'll suppose I'll give you a break - for a change."

"You'll come, but I thought you were tired?"

"I was. Just keep the coffee coming Kent and we'll see what see what we can see down town in the Atlantis joint."

Clark is surprisingly light on his feet, Lois thought and this was a relief, since they were in big shoes he wore. Lois had started out imagining him to be a clumsy dancer, and while Clark was no Fred Astaire he wasn't standing on her toes. Kent also needed to get a decent dress suit for starters; at least he isn't the only guy here in a lounge suit Lois conceded.

She had dressed up, wearing a low backed red evening gown, while Kent had stuck with his uniform dark suit; then again times were tough, he might not own anything better; but Lois was just used to her date's having more style.

After the second time around the floor she decided Clark basically managed to tread the fine line between, on the one hand being both dangerous and just plain embarrassing; and on the other - being mechanical, and just when you thought he might do something extraordinary – good or bad, he seemed to pull back keeping things predictably dull.

Clark made conversation, he even made her laugh a couple of times. finally asking.

"Lois why was it you did your best to avoid me in the office this morning."

"Clark, please I've been scribbling all day, last thing I want to do is talk a sob story."

"Sob story Lois?"

"Don't make me dish it out Clark."

Across the Club in a private booth on a elevated staging area a group of thickset looking men in lounge suits sat with a better dressed man wearing a classic black tuxedo.

A bull a man leered in Lois's direction. "Nice looking dame down there. Remind you of someone Andy-boy?

His friend a lean mean looking man looked in Lois's direction.

"There in the red." The big man pointed at Lane. "That's some hot tomato - guess I'll cut in boys."

"Mr Matson, do you think that's wise, the last thing we need is a fracas on the floor, I don't want to attract any undue attention to our business agreement." Said the better dressed man.

Matson laughed. "You old hen – stop clucking Brand. You owe me big-time – that means I own this joint of yours and it means I own you too. The first thing you need to get clear is that I always do as just as I please – when I please."

Brand persisted. "But what if her companion objects?"

Matson's cronies began to laugh derisively.

"So what if chunky gets nasty, I'll push his face into those goofy specs." Matson laughed back.

"This is going to be good – go for it Butch, and ask her if she's got any sisters, will ya – for me and the fellas?."

"That's for sure Andy-boy. Watch me go."

Butch Matson tapped Clark on the shoulder.

"Hey bub, mind if I cut in?"

Clark looked a Matson. "But this isn't a robbers dance." He said.

"Listen fella I don't care what you think, I said cut and run."

"Clark – don't let him push you around. Are you going stand up for yourself?" Lois said casually watching the two men face up to each other.

Clark sensed he was missing something, was Lois playing a game, her heart had begun to beat all the quicker.

Kent was already annoyed - just when he felt Lois was warming to his gentle charm. Now he was being backed into a corner.

Clark couldn't risk scrapping with this big man, whatever Lois might think. Kent recalled his first fight; the bully Brad Riley had almost broken his hand just by hitting him, this bull of man could hurt himself badly punching Clark; and in any other circumstances that would be just fine, but here in public, with Lois watching – such a fight could easily expose his double identity.

Instead Clark said meakly. "Sir I don't think your attentions are welcome."

"You being flip bub? Be smart - shut it, n' beat it; if you know what's good for ya!"

"Sir, really the choice of who partners a lady on the dance floor should be hers; if Miss Lane wishes to dance with you then I'll gladly step aside." Clark looked a Lois as much to say – you decide.

Lois glared at him. "Why Clark, seeing that you're so happy to oblige this fella – why don't you have a nice dance with him!"

"Doll you'll dance with me – and you'll like it, don't cha y' know who I am?"

Lois stared at the big man defiantly. "Butch Matson?" She suggested slowly, glancing back at Clark as she spoke. "I'm right aren't I, you're him; the man they call Butcher Matson?"

The big man laughed. "Is that a fact?

"Yeah that's me honey." Butch looked at Clark. "See fella – that's real steel." He laughed as he pointed at Lois. "No man has called me Butcher to my face... oh in a long long time; and now this sweet gal just stares me down and calls me out.

"Got to like your fire beautiful."

"The name is Lois Lane - Matson. That's Lois Lane of the Daily Star." And without catching breath she asked. "Isn't it true you've taken a majority stake in the Atlantic Club? Just how long have you been working your operation out of this place? "

Butch stopped grinning.

"A gal reporter, well ain't ya the model modern woman." Matson looked her over, dipping his head in an exaggerated motion so that his leer couldn't be misinterpreted. "Then again I can see why the boys up at the Star let you play with their toys – you'd sure brighten up my working day."

Matson then lunged at Lois. "Come here doll I'll give you something to write home about." He snapped.

Lois twisted clear of Butch's groping reach, and smoothly landed a loud and powerful open handed punch to the side of his face, the slap sounded loud and clear even over the music. Matson's cheek glowed an angry red.

"Well done Lois." Clark whispered under his breath, then he acted out his role. "Lois for God's sake don't provoke him!" He appeared to stumble clumsily between the gangster and Lane.

Matson growled a curse, and glared at Lane. He tried to push his way past Kent, Clark awkwardly stepped back but kept his footing, Matson angrily threw a punch at Clark as he tried to get at Lois. Kent rolled with the blow, he couldn't let Butch realise just how tough he was, falling wildly Clark actually controlled his descent so that he smacked his head against a nearby table; breaking it. Drinks went flying, a seated couple were forced to jump out of the way. They immediately began complaining angrily.

Kent now feigned injury, letting Butch believe the combination of blow, collision and fall had knocked him out cold.

Clark had ended the fight before it could really begin. At the same time his calculated play act had created enough commotion to bring the dance floor to a halt and drawn the attention of the room to Matson.

Brand clearly felt he had to intervene. "Is everything all right Mr Matson?"

Butch sneered. "Yeah I'm fine."

"I'll just throw these troublemakers out." Brand suggested, indicating to his staff to attend to the chaos, and placate his angry customers.

Clark got to his feet with the help of one the Atlantic's waitresses.

Butch was rubbing his fist. "You've a hard skull fella."

Andy-boy sauntered up. "Need any help here Mr Brand."

"I'm Okay." Clark stammered. "Thanks Miss, I think I can walk."

Lois grabbed him. Jamming her shoulder under his arm. "Come on Kent, let's beat it, before you cause more damage to more of the furniture."

Marston watched the girl reporter leave. He was fuming. " No dame says no to Butch.

"Especially one with an agenda

"Andy-boy I don't want to read about tonight – or anything about our operation in the Star; need to send a message to those print boys; follow her and that chump of boyfriend – if they take one of my cabs, well make sure they end up at the shop.

"If they don't take one of ours, y' know what to do - make sure they end up at the shop any way."

Lois and Clark found themselves escorted outside by the Atlantic's doormen, where Clark quickly straightened up, Lois gladly released him.

"Fresh air helps." He volunteered.

"Great work in there Cowboy." Lane said sarcastically.

Clark felt she was being unfair. "I can't believe you Lois – you deliberately provoked that thug, knowing exactly who he was."

"And I can't believe you! Clark men like Matson don't respect you unless you show some backbone; a real Reporter would have played his game, won him over, got him talking; but you were just spineless – you took a golden opportunity and wasted it – then managed to make a lousy situation worse."

"I was trying to avoid a fight..."

"Oh shut up. Y' know what my sob is story Kent? I'm a _just_ a woman so I get stuck baby sitting you. Which is bad enough, but what's worse it that you're not only green Kent - you're yellow.

"And Kent I can't abide cowards." Lane informed him coldly as she opened the door of a waiting cab.

"Lois!" Clark pleaded to no avail.

Behind him Andy-boy strode out into the street, he gestured to the taxi driver. A subtle tip of his hat, was met with a nod of the head from the cab. Then the hoodlum then made a quick but clear hand single, one hand striking the other; the edge of Andy-boy's right hand chopping down on the palm of his left.

The Cabbie nodded. Matson's organisation was far reaching, and when he took over a joint he took control of everything; his suppliers provided the liquor, cigarettes, and staff; and you needed a ride – you rode in one his cars. The driver made an OK sign, before turning to his fare. "Where to Lady."

Lois looked his way, ignoring Clark, she gave her address, and the taxi pulled away leaving him on alone the side walk.

Clark had many amazing abilities, but he didn't possess eyes in the back of his head. He didn't see Andy-boy's hand signal, he didn't read anything sinister into the cab driver's gestures.

After watching Lois leave he dug his hands into his pockets, and reflected on his night.

It was not a complete disaster he decided; they had at least confirmed Matson was definitely entrenched here at the Atlantic, and while Lois unfortunately thought less of Clark Kent, that only meant she was less likely than ever to suspect that he was Superman.

His enhanced vision pierced brick and cement, his super hearing focused on the Butcher Maston's conversation with his cronies.

"That skirt has attitude, God I need a drink."

The hoodlum cursed, drank and recounted a lewd story.

Clark's loitering outside the Atlantic drew attention.

"Hey buddy, if you're taking a cab, take a cab, if not hit the street, you're making the place look untidy." Andy-boy suggested with malice.

Kent adjusted his fedora, and walked away.

He continued to listen.

Butch's lieutenant spoke to the Atlantic's doormen. "You and you - go and work that one over; bring him around the back."

Clark ambled along, hunched up he acted the part of a disgruntled guy whose just argued with his girl, it wasn't a big stretch for him. He listened to the footfalls behind him.

Putting a comfortable distance between the Atlantic's bright and well lit frontage the thugs waited until Kent slipped into the night's shadows.

Grabbing him from behind a rough hand clasped around his mouth while a second man jabbed him low in the stomach. Clark allowed his belly soften and absorb the punch, and the first man to drag into the even darker side alley.

"Work him over, and then we'll get him around the back to the club." The first man instructed.

Clark moved, ducking down, the man's hold was instantly broken, Kent by grabbing his mid rift tossed his assailant over his head at the second man; their heads connected, skull on skull knocking both unconscious.

The next second saw Clark Kent replaced by the red and blue figure of Superman.

The Man of Tomorrow leapt skyward, landing on roof of the Atlantic's roof.

Again he looked deep into the bowels of the Club; quickly he determined the gangsters were making their way outside.

"I sent a couple of fellas after the chump because he and the Lane dame had a spat; they didn't leave together, she grabbed a ride with Mickey; I gave him the signal so she's already on her way." Andy-boy told Butch.

On cue as the hoodlums walked out onto the street an expensive town-car pulled up in front of the club. Matson's gang climbed into the big auto.

"Ok boy's let's go back to the Shop and have a conversation with Miss Lane." Butch chuckled. His driver engaged the column shift and the big Cadillac pulled away.

Superman followed.

Lois was tired. She relaxed in the back of the cab, the driver was quietly getting on with his job, and that suited her just fine. She wondered why she had imagined that there were hidden depths to Kent; had she wanted there to be? Men consistently disappointed her.

Leaning back she closed her eyes, and teetered on the brink of sleep, then an unevenness in road surface caused the cab to jolt. This disturbed her; glancing out of the car she was immediately confused.

"Hey where are you taking me, we're down town, you're going in the wrong direction."

The driver didn't reply.

"Hey!" Lois jabbed his shoulder, "answer me you jerk."

The Driver glanced back taking a hand off the wheel he showed her a revolver.

"Now Lady let's not be stupid. I don't want to get nasty with ya, but I will unless you sit quiet and enjoy the ride."

Butch's limosine cruised across Metropolis and his driver followed the road through Troy State Park.

"I should have really given that chump a real going over." Butch took a drink from Andy-boy.

"You'll soon get another opportunity, the boys from the club will bring him over."

Butch's drink spilled all over his friend, as the big car lurched. "Hey you nut! What's up with you." He shouted at the driver.

"There a fool standing in the middle of road."

Matson leaned forward and looked ahead. "What he's doing star gazing? Drive at him. Give the nut a scare."

The driver gunned the gas pedal and the big car tore forward again.

"He's not moving boss."

"Is that a red coat he's wearing?" Andy-boy asked.

"We'll hit him!" Another said.

"Watch the chrome!" Butch yelled at the last moment, concerned for his expensive auto. The driver swerves. Superman jumps clear and somersaults over the speeding automobile.

"What the hell was that?" The Driver spat.

The men in the back turned around and looked out of the small rear window.

"I'll be damned – it's the devil himself, I swear that man - he's chasing us." Andy-boy spat.

"I don't believe it." Butch stated. Hit a leaver in the custom cabin the rear window dropped behind the seat.

"Pass me a typewriter, going to write this fella a letter." Butch snarled.

Andy-boy opened a hidden storage box in the car's floor, and passed his boss a Thompson submachine gun. Matson sticks the muzzle out of the rear facing opening and begins emptying the magazine at the pursuing figure."

"Die you son of a..."

"Butch he's not stopping!"

Matson could see Superman's face in the light of the muzzle flash. He couldn't believe his eyes, as the bullets even a this close range were having zero effect.

"Step on it!" Andy-boy urged their driver.

Superman grabbed the bumper of the car, sliding behind the Cadillac for a brief second before snatching the auto's driving wheels clear of the pavement, then he began braking the speeding vehicle, his boots sliding along the road surface, bringing the sedan to an abrupt stop – while pulling the car to himself.

Superman tipped the car up further, shifting his grip he tossed the car over his head and grabbing hold of the spinning prop Superman tore the drive shaft clear. The powerless rear wheels span on steadily slowing.

Balancing the town-car and its seven occupants over his head Superman flips the vehicle over onto its side.

One hand now taking the strain his fingers sink into the body work; with the other free hand Superman tears the doors off the big sedan while shaking the auto. The gangsters fall tumbling to the ground.

Then with a nonchalant toss Superman drives the expensive limousine into the ground. Butch's chrome crumples as the engine smashes into the empty cabin.

Superman turns to face the dishevelled, badly shaken hoodlums. They begin picking themselves up from the dirt, and the Man of Steel lets them.

Butch and Andy-boy aim their Tommy guns, the other's draw iron; and a hail of bullets rain down.

Superman steps into it grasping the submachine guns barrels in either hand he yanks them away, crushing them out of shape, the guns become so much scrap. The gunmen stop firing as Superman takes Matson in his hands.

"What are you? You're not human!" Butch gasped.

The Man of Tomorrow held the big man clear of the ground by his coat replies. "You're right. I'm superhuman.

"Tell your boy's to toss their guns, they're harmless toys where I'm concerned, and if one of them let's off a shot the only person they'll hurt now is you."

"Do it fella's."

"Toss them here, to me." Superman commands.

Guns arch through the air. Superman turns, catching and crushing the remaining pistols.

"You might have me, but my people are everywhere, I'll..."

Butch's voice was drowned out by rushing wind, the ground vanishes beneath him. Superman powers upwards.

"Up up and away Butch."

Superman was angry, he knew Matson's people had Lois Lane; they were taking her to something they'd had called the shop. Driven by his righteous rage the Man of Tomorrow's incredible jump drives him and the stunned gangster higher and higher. Looking back Superman gauges that he is now around two miles high above Metropolis famous park; then as he considers the enormity of this feat he senses the force of gravity. Hanging momentarily in the void he twists and then falls, with Butch Matson face down in front of him so that the hoodlum can appreciate the view.

Together they free fall.

Superman can hear Butch's heart beating overtime as the reality of his position sinks home.

Spinning him he pulls the gangster close to his face.

"Where is Lois Lane?" Superman asks his voice booms over the rushing wind.

"The... the... the... dame.

"She special to you?"

"Everyone is special to me Matson. Colour, the creed and the name don't matter, I'm there for everyone good and I'm going after everyone bad. Tonight that's you!

"And I know you mean to harm Lane."

"Go to hell." Butch spat at Superman.

"Your choice, your destination." The Man of Tomorrow replied.

His cape expanded a huge red shield behind him. Superman's fall was suddenly arrested, but Matson continued to tumble unchecked.

Butch screamed.

Superman allowed him too. Then adopting the arrow like shape of a diver, he was like a bullet cutting through the air until he snatches the falling man back to himself.

"That's the ground coming up fast Butch, shall we see if I can let go of you again before we hit dirt?

"Or will you take me to Lane?"

Lois was in the Butcher's Shop; in other words Matson's apartment. The gangster lived perched atop of a hotel which Lois concluded had to be another part of Matson's operation. An early tall building the Stanwix Hotel had fallen into hard times during the early days of the depression. It was sandwiched between the infamous Meat Packing District of Metropolis,where legend had it Matson had begun as pimp and enforcer; and the run down Village – a haunt of musicians and artists.

The Stanwix had come back from the brink, back from the sort of place that rented rooms either permanently or by the hour, enjoying an expensive refit courtesy of a mystery investor. This was undoubtedly Maston; and judging by the expensive details of his home he was living very well off the back of his immoral earnings.

The cab driver handed her over to two more operators working in the Butcher's organisation and then they had taken her via a private elevator that served the penthouse alone to the Butchers 'Shop'. She had been directed at gun point; forced to sit and wait - assured of Butch's imminent arrival.

His thugs watched her, nonchalantly handling their heavy automatic pistols, sipping expensive single malt scotch whiskey from Matson's comprehensive personal bar.

Silently they leered at her; conversation wasn't happening, her attempts at questions were met by threats of violence.

Lois Lane knew Matson liked knives. She knew he had worked as a butchers apprentice, before serving time in the big house from theft and violence; the legends were lurid. She was scared.

The door to Matson's apartment opened, and a tall slender woman breezed in, a white fox fur coat draped over a flowing white gown, jewellery sparkled.

"Hello Boy's – where's Matson?"

It took her moment to acknowledge Lois.

"Oh who's the broad..." she walked and talked, crossing the room the expensively dressed figure circled around. "And what have you done honey, to end up in this fix?"

"Dolores De Winters?" Lois asked, recognising the actress, but seeking confirmation.

"Shut it." The enforcer to her left demanded, the gun thrust forward menacingly in Lane's direction.

"Back down Shelby." Dolores cautioned as she relaxed into an easy chair just across from Lane. The actress lit a cigarette which she imeediately offered to Lois; the Reporter hesitated then took it. Lighting a second for herself, De Winters watched Lane closely.

"I know you don't I?" She said.

Lois nodded. "I work for the Daily Star."

The Metropolis Picture Post had run pictures of De Winters attending the premiere of the Starlets latest film; Lane had covered the opening for the Star. Seeing a good angle the Post's editor had run two similarly framed shots next to each other, one of Dolores and one of Lois; drawing attention to the fact the two beauties looked very much alike, knowing the comparison would annoy the hard nosed professional Lane.

"The famous girl reporter. My erstwhile twin." Dolores drew heavily on her cigarette. "Lois Lane – isn't it? Got to say you look really tired honey, guess you're having a hard night?"

"Couple of nights; from the frying pan into the fire you could say."

"Yeah I'd say you're out of your league sister. Our absent host has connections."

"Clearly." Lane replied her looking directly at the actress.

"Have these Gorillas offered you a drink Lois?"

"Can't say they have Dolores."

"Boys, boys, how rude of you, I'm sure they'd like to put that right. You can mix a martini can't you Shelby?"

Pocketing his iron Shelby made his way to the bar. Clearly she has influence with these goons Lois thought; wondering what kind of relationship existed between the rising starlet and ruthless hood.

"Didn't know you and Matson were friends." Lois said.

Dolores laughed. "Butch doesn't really have any friends Lois."

Shelby offered two martini's.

"Thank you darling." Dolores purred, passing one to Lane. "In life I've found it's best to stay on the right side of the rich and influential; it's advice I'd recommend to you, but I think I maybe already too late."

"Thanks – I feel a whole lot better knowing I'm done for."

"Oh Lois! I didn't mean to suggest anything so dramatic. Don't worry." De Winters smiled. "I'm sure together we can convince Mr Matson that you could yet prove useful."

Lois stared defiantly at the actress.

Dolores wasn't impressed. "Cut that act out sister, you know the score, in this world a girl has to compromise to get ahead."

"I don't know that at all."

"Then that might just be the last thing you don't ever know." De Winters snapped.

"Think about _that _Lois Lane.

"They say it's a Man's World Lane, but I say more than that it's a world that's owned by particular men, men like Matson – and the rest of us just have to get by the best we can."

Out of a cloudless sky came the sound of thunder. The Man of Steel crashed down onto the balcony of the Stanwix Hotel's Penthouse suite.

The unexpected sound of his arrival shocked Lane's laconic guards; the noise defied rational explanation – how could anyone be outside when they were hundreds of feet above the street.

"What's going on?" De Winters demanded.

The enforcers shrugged – they stood puzzled aiming their pistols through the glazed doors into the night. Then emerging from the deep darkness outside came Superman.

Effortlessly pushing his way through, locks popped, and wood splintered, the caped man walked into the room carrying a very dishevelled Matson.

Superman smiled warmly.

Putting the gang boss down by his feet the Man of Tomorrow slid him across the polished floor. Butch looked thoroughly terrified as he skidded to a halt beside an empty easy chair.

The two hoodlums recognising their boss, overcame shock and confusion sufficiently to react in predicable fashion, and began emptying their pistols at Superman.

Not that this mattered; with pace and grace the Man of Tomorrow's fist contacted with the nearest man, his free hand whipping away the hot automatic and tossing the stunned hoodlum aside Superman shoved him across to room to join his boss.

Dolores screamed.

The second thug grasping the futility of shooting at the caped man turned his weapon at the women; aiming his gun at Lois.

"Stop – or I'll shoot the girl."

Superman stared at him coldly. In terror the hoodlum fired.

Faster than a speeding bullet Superman intercepted the slugs lethal trajectory catching the hot metal in his outstretched hand; his dash creating a unnatural wind that upset De Winters knocking her over.

Lois gasped. The caped man was everything and more than she had imagined. Superman turned and winked at her.

"Miss Lane I presume."

"Superman." She said, her voice a breathless whisper. As the Man of Steel a blue and red blur took the remaining pistol from the enforcer Dolores had called Shelby. Superman crushed the gun into so much scrap metal, before knocking Shelby down and placing him along side his friend and Matson.

"I can't believe it, you're so... fast." Lois said. "And you _are_ bullet proof."

"No need to be afraid of me Miss Lane." Superman replied, looking over at the criminals on the parquet floor. "You guys however should stay scared and stay there."

Dolores peaked over the overturned chair.

"I'm sorry if I've upset you - Who are you Miss?" Superman asked her. She didn't answer.

"Just so you know - I'm not scared of you." Lois informed him, adding. "That woman is Dolores De Winters, the actress."

"Is she all right?" He asked. "I didn't mean to knock her over."

"Oh she'll be fine." Lois said. "She's just had a big shock seeing you I guess."

Superman walked over to the men, lifting the boss man off his feet. "Matson are you in business of kidnapping attractive women? What's your game?"

"De Winters came here of her own accord Superman..." Lois stated. Then she paused embarrassed. "Oh may I call you that – I mean call you Superman?"

"I'm reliably informed that's the name people are calling me, so sure why not?" Superman dropped Butch to the floor once more.

"That is an S isn't it? There on your chest? I was wondering what it stands for..."

"The symbol on my chest stands for hope, so yes that's who I am – Superman. You're always working Miss Lane, always the journalist?"

"Lois. Please, call me Lois."

"As you wish. Lois."

Superman scanned the room.

" I have a confession." Lois began.

"What's that Lois, I hope it's nothing criminal."

"No! Its this; you see it was me - I started it, I kind of plucked the title, the name, 'Superman' out of the air, I mean I just came up with that, well by accident."

"I'm grateful for the vote of confidence."

Superman approached the cowering actress. "Do you need a hand Miss De Winters."

She shook her head.

"Cat got you're tongue Dolores?" Lois asked.

"I can see you are both physically uninjured Lois, I hope that they have treat you well otherwise?" Superman asked.

"I'm fine thank you." Lois replied. "But what are we going to do about them?" Lois pointed at Matson and his men. "And her." Looking at De Winters.

"Good question Miss Lane."

"Matson and crew." Superman commanded. "Stand and raise your hands."

Slowly the three men got to their feet, looked at each other, and stuck their arms in the air.

"Turn around, face the door, and keep your hands up."

"Superman – what are you doing?" Lois asked.

The Man of Tomorrow smiled. "Watch the door Lois, and in three, two, one..."

Lois looked, and with a crash a familiar face burst into the room, surrounded by uniformed men.

"Steven!" she called out.

Detective McBrodie accompanied Metro-PD's finest entered their guns drawn. They were more than surprised to see Matson and his compatriots already surrendering.

"Lois are you all right?" McBrodie asked.

"Yes I am – Superman saved me!"

"Where's this Superman Lois." The Detective strode over and took hold of her hand.

Lois looked around. "He was just here. Honestly Steven, I guess as you arrived he must have left."

"Okay darling just tell me what happened."

"Well I ran into Matson at the Atlantic club, I asked him some questions, I guess he didn't like that - next thing I know one of his crew has me at gun point and then drops me here; we were all waiting for Butch to arrive. Then when he does, it's with Superman.

"God knows what Matson meant to do with me, but Superman must have got to him first."

McBrodie turned on Matson. "So Butch looks like I have you banged to rights, kidnapping is felony."

"You've got to make it stick yet copper." Butch replied shakily.

The Detective smiled, saying with relish. "Cuff them boys." Metropolis officers closed on Matson and his men, handcuffing them.

"Is that Dolores De Winters?" Steven asked pointing at the actress; she had recovered some of her poise standing beside the fallen chair.

"The same." Lois replied.

"Okay, this gets weirder and weirder. Is she a captive too?"

"More a guest. For details you better ask her."

"I think I will - down town." McBrodie gestured to his officers. "Look after the Lady, and give her nice ride to Central."

McBrodie hugged Lois. "I so pleased you aren't hurt." He said. "I was so worried when I heard Butcher Matson had you."

Lois briefly hugged him back. "But how did you know he had hold of me - that I was here?"

"Central received a tip off that Matson had kidnapped Lois Lane. That he was holding you against your will at the Stanwix."

"That would have been me Detective." The Man of Steel said; appearing suddenly once more. "I left Matson hanging from a handy telephone pole on route, while I placed the call."

"I thought you'd gone?" Lois asked, leaving McBrodie's clinch.

"Without saying goodbye?" Superman winked. "That's really not my style."

"I just took the opportunity to look around Matson's operation while Metropolis's finest looked after things – and you in particular it seems."

Lois blushed.

"Besides before I go I wanted to check this out." Superman walked over to wall mural, the raised relief panel showed Deco figures posed like Greek athletes.

The panel was hinged, and the Man of Tomorrow swung the art work aside, there was a wall safe concealed behind it.

"You don't mind if I have look in here do you Matson?"

The Gangster looked at Superman aghast, and before the still stunned felon could answer, Superman said quickly. "I didn't think so, seeing we're all so well acquainted." Extending his fingers he punched them through safe; between the door and main body of the steel box, its metal screaming in protest as he levered it asunder as Superman ripped the safe open and revealing the contents.

"Detective this should interest you." Superman suggested. "Among other items stored in here are ledgers showing the details of Matson's illegal operations.

"You should also check out a couple of room on the fourth floor of this building, some of the photographic negatives stored in this safe should explain graphically why there are concealed camera's in those rooms."

"Thank you." McBrodie stuttered. He and his men were dumbfounded by this display of unparalleled might.

"Well miss Lane now I should get going. Pleasure to meet you Detective McBrodie."

"Hey! Superman! I need a statement, you need to come down town with me and..."

"Detective we both know that isn't going to happen." Superman replied. "You have Miss Lane, you have the evidence from this hotel; you have good reason to search for more; and of course you have Matson."

"Look fella I'm grateful for what you've done, and I don't want to get into this with you but." The blond Detective directed his gun at Superman. "it's the way it has to be."

"Lois I'm sorry, but I'm going to leave it up to you to explain to your boyfriend why he's wasting his time.

"Goodbye Ladies, Officers."

"He's not my boyfriend." Lois said as Superman sped to the balcony beyond.

"I'm not?" Steve spluttered, before remembering his job. "Stop Superman or – damn you - I'll shoot!" He shouted.

Lois touched his arm. "Steve forget it. Superman _is _bullet proof."

"He's what?"

Superman leapt in the darkness and was gone.

"Super strong, bullet proof and unbelievably fast."


	22. Chapter 22

On the steps of Metropolis Police Department Central Head Quarters a pack of Newsmen and Press Photographers erupts into cacophony of noise and light, as flash bulbs popped, and Reporter shouted out loudly.

"Miss De Winter!"

"Dolores!"

Demanding answers the press pack pushed forward, hungry for an explanation as to how and why Metropolis's own West Way Actress and rising Movie starlet had become caught up in the sensational arrest of the infamous Mobster Butcher Matson.

A row of Police held a line against clamouring reporters and their quarry.

A tall but narrow faced man, well dressed flanked De Winters and a couple of heavies come body guards.

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen!" He shouted. "Gentlemen of the Press! Please – I have a statement from Miss De Winter's which I will read if you will just permit me."

The noise from the pack receded into an expectant hum.

"Dolores De Winter's has asked me as her legal representative to make the following statement on her behalf. She will at this time answer no questions; however I can confirm she has spoken with Metropolis Police this evening. Miss De Winters has not however been arrested or charged with any crime."

"Whatta about th' Butcher?" Someone demanded. The Pack murmured. The Tall man continued.

"Miss De Winter did attend the Stanwix Hotel, an establishment owned by the well known investor and businessman Mr Edward 'Butch' Matson."

That last line was met with derisive laughter from the assembled journalists. The Lawyer waved his hand dismissively.

"We are clearly all aware of the various allegations levelled at Mr Matson in arising from his arrest by the Officers of the Metro-PD. However and I stress - Miss De Winters was invited to the Stanwix by Mr Matson; to whom she had been previously introduced at the Mayor's Christmas Charity Fund raiser – to meet with him to discuss the possibility of his investing in a theatrical venture - which Miss De Winters wished to see brought to Metropolis's West Way Stage.

"Gentlemen Miss De Winters is both shocked and surprised by the arrest and allegations surrounding Mr Matson – but my client is also clearly an innocent party caught up in events over which she had no control or interest. Miss De Winters is a civic minded citizen of our fair city who has willingly cooperated with the Police even until this ridiculously late hour. Thank you all very much."

The press pack growled into life, and as De Winters, her minders, and the lawyer made their way to a waiting town car, the flash bulbs ignited and pooped once more.

"Thanks for the tip off Kent."

"My pleasure Mac. You get your pictures?"

The Daily Star's top Photographer grinned. "Sure. I was right at the front, thanks to you; got the jump on the Post, and all them mugs to the best shot; I've even got some fine pictures of Matson and crew being hauled out the paddy wagon.

"Got a smoke?"

"Sorry. Not a habit I've developed."

"Yeah, well your still new to this aren't you? A snipe helps pass the time. What do you reckon to that Lawyer talk?"

"I thought the reference to the Mayor was inspired; makes people remember De Winters isn't the only big name that's been seen close to Matson."

"Sure, they'll be plenty of people not sleeping tonight, I mean besides us hounds, people worrying about what the Cops are going to find now they've pulled in Butch.

"You coming back to the paper Kent?"

"I'm going to hang around. Lane hasn't come out yet."

"Lane, yeah, you might have a long wait, she has an on and off thing with a Detective by the name of McBrodie. If I know Lane she'll be working on him.

"Any ways I'm out of here, got appointment with a dark room."

Kent scanned the Metropolis PD building, absorbing details, lifting conversations, observing first Matson, then his crew; then seeking out Lois and McBrodie.

"Kent? What are you doing here?" Lane sighed tiredly as she emerged from the Police station.

"We're partners aren't we – Superman was responsible for Matson's arrest – at least that's the word on the street."

"So you thought you'd come over and see whether you could work an angle?

"Well don't sweat it _Cow_boy, I've got the story covered; and it's dynamite."

"That's great Lois." Clark smiled. "I just came on here after checking out the wrecked Cadillac in the Troy State Park – I called in John Mac so he could get some shots off of the smash."

"A Car wreck?..." Lois thought about it. "Was that Superman's doing?"

"Yeah that was Matson's car; hence the story – got the details from an eye-witness. Called it into the Desk and asked for Mac. We even caught De Winters as she left."

"Good for you Kent; you aren't entirely useless."

"Lois about earlier."

"Forget it. You _are_ green, and I'm joed twice over." Lois yawned tired after two nights without sleep. "Are you going back to the office?"

"Yes – and well, I thought we'd work on the Matson Superman angle."

Yeah?" Lois laughed. "Good idea. You go work.

"In fact tell Taylor I'm coming in late; real late" – Lois yawned, "and meantime you can type _this_ up for me fast fingers."

Lois passed Clark some hand written notes from out of her purse.

"That's my Superman – Matson – De Winters, and not forgetting Lois Lane kidnapped super-scoop; and it's gold, guard it with your life.

"And Partner, the Chief's waiting with bated breath for this story - he's holding the front page for me."

Lois looked the other way up the street. "But don't worry I've got all the bases covered.

"McBrodie is sending a car around to take me home. I'll get the Officer to drop you at the Star – because Kent in the newspaper business every minute counts... Kent?" Lois looked around and Clark had vanished.

"Where has he run to?" She wondered out loud; blast he has my story she thought; the squad car pulled up. Angrily Lane climbed in, too tired to chase after her clearly stupid, and unfathomable partner.


	23. Chapter 23

Lois slammed her copy of the Daily Star down on Taylor's desk.

"Chief where's Kent?"

"Afternoon Lois, I'm fine - thank you for asking."

"He's butchered my story!"

Lane pointed at the Lead Headline 'Ed 'Butch' Matson arrested' then below, Daily Star Reporter Kidnapped.'

"No." Taylor replied, drawing leisurely on his cigarette.

"Kent did what you asked Lane, that poor chump typed up your article for you just the way you'd written it.

"I however made a few changes, stitched in Kent's car wreck angle, and the De Winters statement.

"Sure I trimmed a few details Lane; necessary revisions. I gave you your byline - before committing it to print; that is my job here, last time I looked."

"What! Why?" Lois asked. "Sure it's my name on the story; but Chief your 'trimmed' version barely mentions Superman!

"Okay - so you credit him with 'locating' me, making 'a citizen's arrest' of Matson; 'revealing' the location of hidden documents to the Police at the scene, but everything else..."

"You mean the jumping on and off tall buildings, the fact you saw bullets bouncing off him like rain drops off a roof, his tearing open the steel safe."

"Yes!"

"You mean exactly the things we didn't mention in our first Superman story." Taylor asked.

"Remember we've only really got the word of that hysterical Bea Carroll woman to vouch for the flying – disappearing into the night is what you saw, and that doesn't cover it.

"As for Superman being bullet proof and ripping up steel that's not credible..."

"Hang on Chief!" Lois said. "You pulled that angle from the Curry story as a favour to the Governor; because Anders didn't want it known he sleeps behind a steel door, but I fail to see how 'National Security' applies to what happened to Matson's safe!"

"Did I Lois?

"Look it works like this - if you told me you'd seen pink elephants I'd be inclined to believe to you; because you're a damn good reporter.

"But I have to be a better editor, and that sometimes means deciding not to print even when it's true.

"Okay I believe you; Superman really is bullet proof just like you say – but so much of this story is so unbelievable that it would undermine the reputation of the Daily Star."

"What! A dozen cops, De Winters, me! - how many witnesses do you need?"

"On the record Lois as far as the world knows – there is _just_ you!

"I protecting not only the Star here, but your reputation too dammit.

"The Cops aren't confirming anything to do with Superman; that's an order direct from the Commissioners office - who I hear privately would like to see Superman brought in. As for De Winters what little she is saying, she is saying through her Lawyer's office.

"Look I can sell a strongman; come acrobat; come pugilist street fighter exists – a crime fighting Jesse Owens meets Joe Louis, but we've got to take it easy with the superhuman angle; at least until we can get a bunch of credible witnesses who are willing to be quoted."

Lois let out a long sigh.

"I sorry Chief, I wish you could seen him do those things – if you had you'd realise how big this story is going to get."

Taylor smiled. "Actually that's what I'm counting on Lois, that's my angle, there are plenty of headlines left to run yet - and you're my go to, go get, girl.

"Which brings me to your newest assignment.

"Word from one of my old army buddies is that the eggheads at Campbell Scott are test flying some new prototype aeroplane, they intend to debut this bird at the Metropolis Air Show next week."

"Let me guess - they are currently flying the plane out of Pegasus Field."

"Where else Lois?"

"When did the Colonel call?" She asked, staring at Taylor coldly.

Taylor lit a cigarette. "Come on Lois we run a story about you being kidnapped by one of biggest mobsters in Metropolis and you didn't think he'd make sure you were all right."

"Well Chief he surely didn't call me! But you... One his brother's in arms, a war buddy - yeah he can call you!

"Same old man, calls anyone and everyone except his own family."

"Would you have taken the call?"

"That's not the point."

"Lois, I'm not asking you forgive and forget. This is solid lead. People are concerned, Europe is on the brink of new war; with consequences that'll reach even further than ever before - our military and it's ability to defend this country _is _the real story of the moment.

"I appreciate, heck I value your independence, but a good journalist wouldn't allow personal animosity prevent her from using a dependable source.

"Or the skills of a colleague, for that matter. We're a team here at the Star; and I want you to remember that."

Lois thought for a moment.

"Okay Chief I'm with you - so you're hinting you want Kent to come along on this?"

"Maybe – what's your reasoning, what does he bring to the assignment?" The Editor tested her.

"Only that he seems to spend every spare minute reading; books and magazines like The Scientific American. I just figured he might be able to translate the technical jargon that those Campbell Scott people love to use.

"And, if I'm honest I think he'll enjoy it, and I guess I owe him that much."

Taylor chuckled. "And the rest." He was pleased that Lois appeared to be playing along. "And you're right; Kent comes over as the studious type – sure lets see how he good he is at this stuff, we could do with a science guy, besides he needs the experience.

Get a car from the motor pool; and I'll call the Colonel - and tell him to expect you."

Lois left Taylor's office defiantly, but privately she was smouldering.

As if by magic Kent had reappeared at his desk.

"Where were you hiding?" She asked him.

"I've just got back; there was a robbery down town, a jewellery store was hit, Superman turned up, and it was all over.

"I got a statement from the owner – he was really grateful to Superman."

"I'm thrilled for you Kent." Lois snapped. "I suppose you've already called it in?"

Clark nodded and looked crest fallen.

Lois bit her lip; feeling the tug of guilt. Today she first unfairly accused him of playing dirty, and now she was taking out her anger on this innocent mild mannered guy. "Thanks for doing me that favour by the way." Lois added. "Typing up my notes meant I finally got some much needed sleep."

Kent looked up surprised.

"Look, don't mind me, I'm just mad and disappointed, but it's not you, it's the Chief. Taylor didn't print my story the way I'd written it – he virtually edited Superman out!"

"Well I'm sorry about that Lois. It was great piece of writing, but then again, y' know maybe Superman's happier working in the background, he might be grateful for the toned down version?"

Lois laughed. "Clark – Superman runs around in a skin tight costume that's all primary colours and has a bright red cape; if he cared about not being noticed he'd wear camouflage; something in black and grey maybe. That suit is louder than a hipped out big band."

"Yeah I guess the costume does make a statement."

Lois laughed. "Kent not everyone is a wallflower like you. You could take a page out Superman's book, find a brighter tie for a start, you look like you're attending a funeral"

Clark fingered his sober neck-tie self consciously.

"Come on Kent. Let's make tracks.

"Where to Lois?"

"First your going to go get us a car from the motor pool, and meet me out front. Then you'll be driving me over to Pegasus Field; the Army Air Corps Base on the North side of Metropolis – and if you're good Kent, you'll get go look at some fancy Aeroplanes."

-'S'-

Passing through the gated security of Pegasus Field; the young private efficiently waving Lois and Clark through after glancing at their Press Cards; the V8 flat head burbled, as Kent eased the big Ford across the flat expanse of hard pavement. Their destination was a series of numbered hangers, the ninth in particular.

Leaving the car the two journalists reported to a Military Policeman at the Hangers door. Now close up the vastness of the curved steel construct could be appreciated. Built originally to house Airships these were structures on a massive scale; the figure 9 was painted in white and was some thirty feet high, huge double aircraft doors were closed shut, dwarfing the standard three by seven foot entrance the MP guarded.

Ushered inside Kent and Lane were directed towards two aircraft occupying centre stage. Long sleek they had been painted a powder pale yellow, red flashes on the elliptical wings and twin finned tails made for a striking combination – these were the classic show colours of Campbell Scott Aircraft Company.

Their long walk ended at island of desks and draughtsman boards set up on the right of the aircraft.

Lois approached an older man in uniform. He stood discussing the details of the upcoming air show with two technicians from Campbell Scott. They stood out from the Army personal because they were wearing white coveralls. Clark listened to Lois's raised heartbeat, he could smell that she was perspiring nervously; at the same time he registered that older soldier was apprehensive. The senior officer acknowledged Lois, outwardly both of them managed to exude confidence and even defiance.

"Lois."

"Colonel."

"I read about your exploits in the Star. You should more careful.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your colleague."

"Colonel Lane, this is Clark Kent.

"Clark this is my Father."

Kent shook the Colonels hand.

"Well son, I know why Stitches sent my little girl out here, but why you? I'd say with eyes like yours you are no fly-boy." The colonel pointed to the thick lenses in Clark's glasses.

Lois came to Clark's rescue. "By Stitches he means the Chief, the Colonel and Taylor were in France together during the war."

"Indeed we were. How about you Kent, your father a military man?"

"A farmer sir." Clark replied, then adding. "But my Uncle Tom went out to France."

"I see." Colonel Lane observed. "Didn't come back did he son?"

Clark nodded.

"Thought as much from your face. Lot of good men didn't come home from that war Kent."

"Clark is quite knowledgeable about aviation. He was talking to me about the science of flying on the way out here."

"Egg head eh? How is it you are in journalism Kent? Why not some outfit like these fellas" The Colonel pointed at technicians from Campbell Scott."

"To be honest sir, with the way things were in Kansas I left school early, don't have much of a formal education..."

"Say no more Kent. Self taught man, that I can respect.

"Now Lois tell me how did you get yourself tangled up with a Mobster?"

Lois eyes went wide.

"Young lady as your father I think I have a right to be concerned."

"You're concerned?" Lois asked sarcastically

"Of course."

Clark interrupted the awkward silence. "Is it all right if I take a closer look at the planes Sir?"

The Colonel waved a dismissive hand. "Yes son - but don't touch."

Clark walked away giving the warring Lanes some elbow room. It felt like they needed a lot, like even this vast aircraft hanger was on the small side.

Initially Clark did not need to be Superman to over hear what was been said; and he was relieved when the shouting was over. Lois seemed to accept that her father was genuine; and she began to recount to him her experience.

In the meantime he scanned the first of the two airframes. The big prop was up front in the standard puller formation. He could see a huge twenty eight cylinder engine extended way back, complete with what he recognised as a fuel injection system. Two further devices augmented the air feed to each bank of the engine, he determined these must be superchargers of a unique design. Finally at the rear of the plane was the pilots cabin, a big glazed canopy, oddly with a rear facing view window, and perhaps understandably a bubble in the floor forward of the cockpit allowing the airman a forward view of the ground – to assist in a landing approach Clark concluded. Interestingly Clark noted that the cabin was pressurised.

"Do you like my Aircraft?"

Clark turned, the young man that addressed him was wearing the white overalls that identified him as a Campbell Scott technician.

"Your Aircraft?" Clark asked.

"Yes my design." He pushed his rather long auburn red hair with his hand.

Clark knew he was telling the truth, he could see and hear it. There was a confidence – an arrogance even visible in the young man's bearing. Yet he was no older than Clark, he guessed maybe twenty years of age - no more, maybe less. Taking hold of his outstretched hand they introduced themselves.

"Clark Kent, Daily Star."

"Alexander Luthor." He emphasised his surname; 'loo-thaw'

Clark looked back to the Plane. "So Mr Luthor, it's quite a plane, she looks like it's mostly a big engine with wings and a couple of seats at the back. Guess that makes her fast?"

Luthor laughed. "Fast Mr Kent! You are looking at the fastest plane on earth; and my friend it is a good deal more complicated I can assure than - how did you put it, an engine, wings and seats."

Clark smiled. "I'm sure it is." He said nodding. "But I'm just a humble hack, I mean what would I know?

"And Mr Luthor, my friends - they call me Clark."

"Clark it is then. Mine call me Lex.

The young scientist began to walk and talk, circling his invention.

"There are a great number of innovations that make this Aeroplane unique. Obviously neither my employer nor the US Army would like to see the details of these in print." Lex explained, then with a wry smile said. "But I can tell you this aircraft will exceed five hundred miles per hour; it will fly faster and higher than anything on earth."

"Then it is an interceptor – perhaps given the second seat reconnaissance?"

Lex wagged a finger at Clark chuckling as he did so. "You are perhaps more knowledgeable than you first suggested. Well played.

"It is first a defensive weapon,

"You see the US Army believes - well at least Colonel Lane believes; that in next war will be defined by air power.

"And the next war will come sooner than later; and when that happens, it will be aircraft that will prove to be the decisive weapons. Machines like this.

"This plane can, when armed with the requisite cannon, strike at enemy bombers long before they are above their targets – and yes this same great height, speed, and useful range means it can perform a valuable reconnaissance role."

"Is the continental United States really threatened by transatlantic bombers?"

"Clark I could build such a plane tomorrow!

"Do you think our enemies are sitting on their hands? More over we have interests further afield that are well in range of current bombers. The United States cannot afford to be complacent."

"But Lex should we be involved in yet another European war?" Clark asked.

"Can we afford not to be? Can we expect not to be? Must it be Europe? Do not forget the war in the East.

"Honestly I don't know Clark where tomorrows dangers will come from; but if this country must be a fortress then these my flying cannon will defend her – that I assure you."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud exclamation from Lois.

"Superman! This concern is all about Superman!"

Clark and Lex poked their heads around the nose of the yellow plane.

Lois was in full flight, her finger jabbing at her father. "You only invited me here to talk about Superman – didn't you?"

"I'll admit I'm interested in how this man performs these super human feats you describe in the Star, and those you didn't print especially. Lois you are not stupid, surely you must wonder how it is possible for a man to bend steel, to deflect bullets, to perhaps even fly?"

Luthor approached, and interrupted. "It isn't. Possible I mean, for a man to perform those feats.

"If what you say is true, and I doubt it very much, then the answer lies in science, perhaps some bullet proof material – and chemical enhancement, certain pharmaceuticals coupled with specialist training might conceivably enhance human performance. Given enough time selective breeding would contribute greatly to such a project. The Germans have interesting ideas along those lines."

"Exactly. That is why I am suspicious, this name Superman, sounds Nazi through and through to me." The Colonel snapped.

"No. Wait. It's not like that. I mean..." Lois countered.

"I've spoken with Superman Colonel, and he comes over as all American to me." Clark stated firmly.

"That may well be Kent, and I'm sure if Stitches hired you then you're good at your job; but are you trained in counter espionage? Just how would you expect a spy to come over to you?"

"Colonel." Lois said coldly. "I'd expect a Nazi to let a black man hang, not single handedly beat back a mob of white men intent on lynching him."

The Soldier folded his arms. "Any true American would work with us not against us."

"And bringing a man like Matson to justice - just how is that un-American?" Lois countered. "What you mean is why hasn't Superman enlisted in the US Army ?

"And what for - so men like these guys can poke and prod him and run a battery of tests?

"There's more to this country that military Dad – but wait you've never got that, never understood it, not even when Mom died."

"Lois – that was uncalled for." Colonel Lane said.

"You think?

"Come on Clark we're done here."

Lois turned and walked away.

"Gentlemen, it was pleasure meeting you and seeing your wonderful Aircraft." Clark said.

"You running after her?" Colonel Lane asked unimpressed.

"She is kind of my partner,.. well really she's more like... my boss, because she's senior on the paper - where as I'm new..."

The Soldier laughed and shook his head contemptuously as left. Luthor turned to Kent saying. "Look Clark, you are more than welcome to come to the display and see my aircraft fly; both you and Miss Lane – as my guests.

"You'll get better seats, and unparalleled access on the day of the show, to both me, my team, and my planes."

"Thanks Lex – that's very kind of you."

"Not at all Clark, the more positive publicity the company gets, the more likely Congress will sign off on these, and that's something that is in the best interests of America."

"Thanks Lex... err I'll see you then – Look I better run."

Lex smiled to himself as Kent hurried away.

-'S'-

Luthor had been as good as his word. Invitations and passes had arrived for Kent at the Star. Lois not wanting to miss a story and reluctantly decided to return to Pegasus Field, the prospect of a record breaking plane taking to the air, and the promise of a banner headline announcing a high speed run would earn, was a big enough incentive.

Their arrival had little impact, they were just two reporters among many esteemed guests. Colonel Lane for his part was too busy with his own concerns; his immediate superiors, along with a gaggle of influential politicians the Army Air Corps wanted to impress.

"Okay Lois, how are we going to cover this?" Clark asked.

"That's easy Kent, I'll go talk to Dr Luthor. You take the camera, and see if you can mingle. Find out what you can see and hear with the Politicians and the Generals; and when the new aeroplanes finally make an appearance try to get some pictures.

"Don't look so glum Clark, I'd have preferred Mac to be here to - but he's not, so just do your best."

"But surely I'd be better talking to Lex – and you would be better with the Army guys..."

"You mean my Father? You think that's a good idea – after last time?" Lois asked defiantly.

"But.."

"Kent I know you. You boys are all the same around planes, trains, and automobiles, besides I've been around aircraft for as long as I can remember. I'm just as - if not more - qualified than you to describe the actual flying.

"So go and grill some of the top brass; and I'll charm your red headed friend."

Lois watched Clark amble away from the hanger. The huge doors were wide open and the planes were being towed forward and out onto the runway.

Luthor's distinctive deep red hair made him easy to spot among the similarly dressed engineers from Campbell Scott.

"Dr Luthor?"

"Miss Lane." Lex beamed. "Or may I call you Lois?

"Please call me Lex, all my friends do."

"Sure thing. But only if I can get a look inside one of these birds?"

Lex laughed. "Well we are running pre-flight checks at the moment."

"Clark told me you were heading up this project?"

Lex smiled. "Yes. This design is mine, but I must work with my esteemed senior colleagues from Campbell Scott."

"Come on?" Lois smiled. "I'd just like a look, I mean there is no harm in that."

Lex glanced at his watch. "Very well, we are only young once."

The Cockpit had a side opening door, cleverly allowing relatively easy access, what was more Lois found the cabin extremely roomy. It was a big plane, certainly bigger than other single engined fighter aircraft she had seen before.

She tried the front seat.

"Can you fly?" Lex asked.

"Yes I've taken the controls more than once."

"I thought as much, your father being an airman. That and the way you took in the relevant dials."

"My father wouldn't permit me to pursue it. Though I hope to in the future."

"Indeed Lois, the world needs another Amelia Earhart."

Lois looked around. It was a big glasshouse. Impressive all round visibility despite being set so far rearward. "The back seat looks different?"

"Yes it turns around 180 degrees, to allow the co-pilot to better observe the terrain below. Here try it."

Lois eased herself into the rear seat.

"I'll buckle you in." Luthor offered. "The seat angles downward when it turns, you'd fall out otherwise without the belts.

Lois allowed the young engineer to fasten her in position, he leant close, she knew he was flirting with her, and indeed she was with him, it was part of the game, the means to getting a better story.

Lex pulled a lever and the chair she was in swung around. She was now facing backwards and down.

"I'm sorry Lois you only have the grey of the pavement to look at.

"Of course in the air it's a different view all together."

"You get out!"

Luthor span around. One of the Campbell Scott uniformed engineers faced him, the gun in his hand was pointed directly at Lex.

"Don't be stupid." The armed man warned. "This pistol is fitted with a silencing device. I'd rather not shoot you, but I will if I have to."

Luthor glanced at his watch.

"You can't do this now!" he snarled. "Wait! Let me release this woman, and we'll both leave."

The other man, grabbed Luthor, taking hold of his baggy white overalls he pulled the younger man forward so he fell to the ground.

"No time!" he growled. Kicking the prostrate scientist, before bending over an whispering to him. A blow to the head followed. Then he returned to the plane.

Lois was screaming.

"Shut up or I'll kill you."

Lois strained around to see the gunman's face, she couldn't make it out, and now she could hear that he was strapping himself into the pilots seat. Moments later she heard the engine roar into life."

Across the air field Clark was busy making mental notes; his hearing allowing him to eavesdrop on the so far mundane conversation of the senior military and political guests.

Dutifully Kent snapped pictures of the Aeroplanes. The first of the two prototypes burst into life and sprang forward. Clark stopped taking pictures, he sensed there was something not quite right - the plane seemed to moving unnecessarily fast, sprinting out on to the runway.

Over loud speakers a running commentary was being broadcast, both to the base, and wider afield, on Metro-Wave, Troy States leading Radio Station.

"Here at Pegasus Field we are growing excited now they time is approaching for our first sighting of the incredible Campbell Scott Interceptor under power.

"Yes folks I can see the flame bird colours. I can see the aeroplanes readying for takeoff from where I'm reporting live to you now, and yes, one of these amazing planes is now on the runway.

"I do declare those boys at Campbell Scott are excited, they are running out after the plane waving their hands excitedly.

Now this is unexpected! The second Aeroplane is following directly after the first.

"And oh my word, the noise folks you can hear is the mighty engines as the the planes pick up speed, and I can tell you that's a short hop for any plane to take. I mean the first Flame Bird Interceptor is already airborne, what an amazing demonstration of acceleration on take off, and my word she's flying up like a rocket.

"And there goes the second."

"Wait folks I'm hearing a commotion, I don't believe what I'm been told, the first Plane is not under the control of an Army Air Corps!

"I can confirm that it has been stolen – I repeat the first Flame Bird Interceptor has been stolen."

Superman appeared from beneath the raised bleachers where Clark had vanished. The conversation from the men in command had become darker and more angry.

The second plane was being launched to pursue the first, the only aircraft capable of keeping pace with Luthor's design was it's sister prototype – the Army Air Corps had no choice.

Superman's incredible eyes inspected the first plane as it sped away, his enhanced vision piercing the cabin, and there to his surprise he saw Lois buckled into the backward facing copilot seat.

Over the radio and loud speakers the commentator continued. "Ladies and Gentlemen a blue and red figure has appeared on the run way...

"Sorry folks, I lost my voice for a moment, I can't begin to explain what I've just seen, a man, yes a man has just leapt into the air.

"I'm trying to follow what's happening with my binoculars... as I am talking with you.

"Yes folks, you are hearing this first, and live from Metro-Wave, the incredible super human agent of justice called Superman – which this reporter thought was some figment of wild imagination exists – and Superman is unbelievably chasing these incredible aircraft into the air."

Superman closed on the Aircraft, his tremendous leap taking him towards the first Flame Bird, the Plane suddenly dived to one side; had the pilot seen him he wondered?

This Campbell Scott Interceptor however dived toward the second pursuing plane. Superman's x-ray vision saw that unexpected additions had been made this the attacking prototype.

Fire spat from it's wings, as automatic cannon shells tore through the fabric seals that had covered the once empty gun ports. Machine guns had been installed in the requisite wing cavities.

Superman dived. His x-ray vision confirming that this was an unequal aerial dogfight - the second prototype had not been upgraded. It was unarmed.

The unarmed Pilot was caught off guard, clearly he did not know the first Interceptor was armed.

The shells tore through the engine of his plane, and the aircraft lost power, caught fire and began to stall.

Superman looked down, below them the airfield was crowded with onlookers, the bleacher stands were filled with senior figures from both Metropolis, the Army and Washington too.

The second Flame bird was now a smoking tumbling mass of metal hurtling towards the innocents below.

His enhanced vision followed the plane, the Pilot was wrestling with the aircraft, trying to control the planes descent.

Superman dived, he wasn't sure what he could do, and yet he was compelled to try.

Superman believed in his own abilities. He believed that somehow when he really tried to do something, he could always find the strength from within to achieve the impossible.

Hitting the plane as it fell backwards, Superman felt it change course. Digging his fingers into the air frame - he hung on as it tumbled and he pushed against the metal of the planes underbelly, attempting to correct it's chaotic fall.

He felt the weight of the plane, the and pull of gravity; he remembered things, for instance how he had hung in the air with Matson, before feeling gravity pulling him down. On this occasion he willed himself to hang on, to push and wrench the plane around upright and into a controlled dive.

Superman succeeded. He felt the air working with him, catching the wings of the plummeting plane, the pilot wrestled with the stick and with Superman together they forced the fiery flame bird into a more controlled descent.

The landing gear successfully deployed.

Superman waved back at the stunned Pilot, the airman could see him through the glazed bubble in the Interceptor's floor. He wondered what the panicked airman made of his billowing red cape.

Dare he let go?

The ground came up fast.

Superman made his choice. He tucked himself up and allowed the wheels to touch the hardened surface of the runway, before dropping his feet, and assisting the speeding plane to controlled stop, well short of the applauding crowd.

His x-ray vision confirmed an uncomfortable fact, the Flame bird was currently almost fully fuelled and on fire. It was effectively a bomb. Stepping back he took in and enormous breath, and as he inhaled his mind took him back to his childhood and an embarrassing memory; when as a boy he had covered the wall of the Kent's Farmhouse in a splattering of sugar icing and cake; then he had been attempting to blow out his birthday candles in one big puff.

Since then he had practised this particular trick many times, but never had the stakes been so high. He sucked in, his lungs pressurising the air until it was cold and dense; then he exhaled explosively. The engine fire fluttered and then died back, but at the same time the plane skittered in the wake of his super-breath. Superman however was more than able to control the aircraft as he held onto a wing, while extinguishing the flames. Then seeing the fire was out, he turned and scanned the sky for the first stolen Flame Bird. He could see it climbing ever higher, the supercharged engine sucking in the thinner air allowing the piston powered plane to punch it's way upwards and away from any earthly competition.

As Lex had said, nothing on earth could climb higher or fly faster.

Or could it.

Superman crouched down. Ignoring the cheers of the crowd celebrating his incredible rescue, of Plane and pilot, Superman thought only of Lois.

There was a crash of thunder as Superman leapt, cracking the runway's pavement beneath him, he shot clear of the earth faster, harder, higher, more angrily than he had ever flown before.

Gravity had no meaning, he accelerated and a second thunder clap was heard high above Pegasus Field. Superman could see his target grow ever closer.

Lois had sadly watched the second Prototype tumble to earth, it's engine on fire. Then she had lost sight of it in the clouds as the first Flame Bird flew on and up and away.

The thief, the spy, who ever the engineer really was didn't acknowledge her presence, pointing the plane skyward Luthor's Interceptor roared away from Metropolis.

Lois thought about her circumstances. The pilot was armed, and the plane was climbing, while she was facing downwards hanging in her seat. Beneath her the earth seemed to slip further and further away.

Making a snap decision she hit the release catch of the safety harness that held her into the seat.

She fell, her hands stopping her, grasping the frame of the chair, struggling she twisted around, hanging on against gravity, she dragged herself back.

The pilot turned and saw her.

He pulled back on stick, putting the plane into an even steeper climb. Lois's left hand lost it's grip on the copilots seat, she held on for a long moment with her right, then she fell tumbling against the toughened glazed rear canopy bubble. Laying there she looked up at the ghostly face of the thief.

He was bizarrely without expression almost wax like in appearance.

The treacherous engineer levelled the aircraft off engaging the autopilot, he left the pilots chair; taking into his hand a large hunting knife.

"I regret having to do this." He said mechanically. "A knife is a less efficient means of killing you than a gunshot. However this is a pressurised cabin and at this altitude I dare not risk puncturing the hull, since that could lead to catastrophic failure.

"Please do not struggle as that will only prolong your ordeal."

Lois cowered, she held up her hands in terror.

He lunged at Lois, she let him get close.

Her father had been many things to her, inattentive,cold and disinterested, these traits had defined their relationship in the months and years that followed her mothers death; but the one thing the then Captain Lane had made time to teach his daughter, was how to fight.

Maybe Lois thought as she deflected the incoming blow, sweeping her assailants strike away with her bony forearm, before driving her fist into the soft tissue of his exposed neck, following almost simultaneously with a knee to his groin; maybe it was because her father had wanted a boy, a son to instruct in the most efficient ways to stop, take down, and if necessary despatch the enemy. Maybe it was because the only way he knew how to interact with a child after his wife's death was to treat her like one of his recruits, like a soldier, maybe showing Lois how to kill a man was the only way he know to show her love and respect.

Whatever Lois thought.

It was at least something she should thank him for, if she ever got the chance. Lois smashed the stunned thief's head against the metal of the plane.

He slumped into unconsciousness. Lois took the gun and the knife. Then she sat at the controls of the Plane.

"Now all I have to do is take this bird home." She said out loud.

"Calling Pegasus Field, this Flame Bird One. Over."

Lois repeated herself. "Adding this is Lois Lane, I am in control of the aircraft, I am bringing her around."

The radio crackled back. "Who is this? Where is my operative."

Lois looked at the station settings, it was way off the dial.

"Your operative is out for the count buster; now who ever you are, you're not getting this plane, I'm taking it home."

"That is regrettable. I do not know how a female happened to be aboard this aircraft, or how you managed to overcome my operative; but I cannot allow you to do this."

Lois heard an noise, and behind her the previously unconscious man leapt forward growling like a mad dog. His face twisted in apparent agony.

Lois hit him, but he kept on coming, he grabbed for the knife, they struggled, and the plane fell.

Superman dived after the falling airframe, he had been within moments of catching the Interceptor, and now almost to spite him the aircraft fell out of control.

The Man of Tomorrow sped angrily towards the Flame Bird, because inside he could see that Lois for fighting for her life.

The crazed thief was stronger than Lois, and this time he wasn't holding anything back, and yet there wasn't any intelligence left in the raging madman's eyes, only blind hate or so it seemed. There wasn't much space in the cockpit to fight, and Lois was both smaller and faster; she turned his strength and rage against him, twisting away from him, then as uncontrolled plane lurched the knife slipped from between their hands and into his body.

"Operative confirm status." The emotionless voice spoke over the open radio.

Lois managed to get herself back in the pilots seat and at the same time she felt the aircraft was inexplicably levelling off, she took hold of the stick and the plane felt responsive once more.

Then moments later the voice repeated itself. "Operative confirm status.

"Your operative has accidentally stabbed himself to death I think, I haven't stopped to check, I'm too busy trying to save this plane." Lois shouted at the radio.

Beneath her she recognised the red cloak of Superman. "And it seems I've got help too."

"That is regrettable." The voice replied. "Good bye Miss Lane."

Lois immediately recognised that the planes electrical system had failed completely, the dials went dark as did the radio, then the engine spluttered and died. A series of small explosions left the stick flopping like a broken twig in her hands.

Superman turned without hesitating tore into the cabin, ripping the plane open like tin foil separating the cockpit from the body of the aircraft. Wind tore at her face and hair. Yet Superman's voice sounded calm and clear above the maelstrom of noise.

"Come to me Lois!" he said, releasing her from the seat restraints, he powered upwards smashing the glasshouse clear from above them before taking her into the air, leaving behind the broken aeroplane; shielding her in arms letting his cloak wrap around her as the Flame Bird exploded beneath them.

"Why?" She whispered.

"There were hidden explosive charges built into the frame of the aeroplane, I didn't recognise them as such until the first explosions severed the control wires to and from the cockpit; I then realised I had to get you out of there before the main charge went up.

"I think they had to be triggered by a radio signal – some sort of advanced fail safe device."

"There was someone talking to me before the plane exploded, whoever organised this theft I guess, the other guy he..."

"I saw. It wasn't your fault, and you were very brave. He suffered a just fate, no worse than he intended for you."

"You saw. How?" Lois's thoughts churned so many questions. Did he see through the glass of cockpit? Perhaps she thought. "Yet you said that you saw hidden explosives – how can you see..."

"I can see through things Lois."

She looked at him wide eyed. "Through things – what kind of things."

"Metal, concrete, pretty much everything."

Lois gasped, and subconsciously folded her free arm across her chest.

"Superman, we're descending, slowly, but you don't have a parachute. I mean how are doing this?"

"Frankly Lois; and off the record?"

"Okay. I can't say no to you right now can I?" She replied, hugging him closer.

"The truth is I'm not sure. Before today I just thought I was leaping bigger and bigger distances; but then there were moments when I could do things in the air that were really amazing. Yet I just accepted that as being really acrobatic - but today, to catch you in that incredible Plane I had to push myself harder than I've ever had to push before, and I found myself undeniably defying the force of gravity as I flew higher and higher after you.

"Now I've started to break Newton's law, I find myself unable to stop."

"You flew for me?"

"Lois I'd save any innocent in danger. You know that."

As Superman dropped back towards Pegasus field Lois looked him in the eye and said. "But Superman I bet you didn't hold Butch Matson this close did you?"

-'S'-

Clark emerged faceless into the crowd. Lois stood a lone windswept but undeniably gorgeous figure before the bleachers. Soldiers hurried towards her, others vainly scoured the heavens for Superman, who had vanished.

A young man with red hair caught his eye, was it Luthor he wondered. Sliding through the crowds he quickly established this wasn't his new friend but rather a younger man still.

The camera he held was an expensive model, it was a little at odds with his thread-worn somewhat dated clothes, hand me downs most likely.

What caught Clark's eye was the way he handled the camera, he had been honest when he told the Chief he had not taken many pictures, but that did not mean he had not been watching intently how other people worked, and Mac was an acknowledged artist at the snapshot so the Newsroom guys would often say.

His vision enabled him to observe the picture as the photographer perceived it. He could appreciate the way the youth was framing and executing the shot.

"Taken many pictures today son?"

"You bet Mister, I was saving my film for the Flame Bird Interceptors. So I got pictures of everything. I mean I've pictures of most of the aircraft that fly out of Pegasus; so I wanted the Flame Bird shots, and then he came. I mean Superman. Did you see him. He caught that plane! He put the fire out. It was amazing. Then he arrives a little later with that lady, boy I'd like to know why she was flying with Superman." His freckle face beamed with enthusiasm as he ran his words excitedly together.

"Say son, can you get your pictures developed quickly?"

"I'm not sure mister – why you asking?"

Clark dug out a card from his wallet. He passed it across.

"I'm Clark Kent – I'm a reporter with the Daily Star."

"Jeepers Mister - do you mean you want to use my pictures?"

"Can't say that yet son – got to see how they come out."

"Darn it, I haven't money for chemicals yet."

"Listen – say what's your name?"

"James Oslen, though mostly folks call me Jimmy."

"Well Jimmy come over to the Star – let our dark room boys develop your pictures; if they are good I'll show them to the editor. That's all I can promise; it will be his call to run them or not.

"Look Jimmy here's your cab fare." Clark handed him some money. "That way your not out of pocket."

"Thanks Mr Kent, this is just the best thing ever – thanks so much."

-'S'-

Clark Kent finally caught up with Lois. She and her father were talking. A military Policeman blocked his path.

"Lois!" he called.

She looked over to him. Brief words were exchanged between father and daughter. A command was issued. Kent was ushered to join his fellow reporter. The Colonel left them both directly, not stopping to acknowledge Kent, and barely saying goodbye to Lois.

"Don't mind him Clark he's lost. He wants to be angry with Superman, and then he's struggling with the fact it was Superman who saved one of his expensive planes from falling into hostile hands; and the other from crashing very publicly, and probably into a bunch of taxpayers, maybe even some Congressman."

"And Superman also saved you Lois."

"Yes and me.

"You saw it all?" She asked.

"Yes I've called the story in. Not that it's any great secret, since it was broadcast all over the state by Metro-Wave. Although the army took them off air once Superman left to save you."

"Which makes _my_ exclusive – what happened to the first plane - all the more news worthy; since people have only heard barely half the story."

"I'm glad one someone his happy."

Clark recognised the voice. "Lex? You're injured?"

The young scientist's face was bruised, his head was bandaged and he held himself badly. "Unfortunately I had a run in with the operative that absconded with Miss Lane and my prototype.

"It appears he treat Miss Lane better than he handled my aircraft, and me."

"Appearances are actually deceptive Lex." Lois replied.

"Who was this man?" Clark asked.

Lex looked disgusted. "A fellow of Campbell Scott, a man who had worked alongside me for the duration of this project, a colleague and a friend. What makes a man deny himself and turn on his countrymen Clark? What kind of ideal can justify such duplicity?

"What kind of man watches his work burn?"

"At least Superman saved the second Prototype."

Lex seemed to expand with rage. "Superman! Superman! All I hear is Superman. You know what those idiot congressmen are saying?

"No I didn't think so! Listen, they're saying my plane – remember the plane that's faster, can fly higher, turn quicker than anything else in the air? Remember that plane Kent?

"Well hundreds of people have just seen my aircraft out performed, and outpaced by a man in a cape!"

"Lex, Superman saved my life, probably hundreds of lives by stopping the second plane from hitting the crowd – how can you be so angry – that's incredibly selfish." Lois exclaimed.

"I am shamed by him. He made a fool of me. My work. My intelligence." Lex spat.

A soldier hurried over to them. "Mr Luthor? What are you doing here?" The officer asked. "You are meant to be in the sanatorium; you received a nasty blow to the head. You shouldn't be on your feet."

"They sent you to get me – didn't they?"

"Well yes Mr Luthor, of course. You should be in bed. Not wandering around."

Lex's eyes flashed again with rage. He opened his mouth but gasped, and tumbled. Clark reached out and caught him.

"Fast on the draw there Cowboy." Lois commented. "Could do with seeing more of that kind of thing from you."

"Gosh Lois, I just didn't have time to think." Clark let a couple of airmen take over, and Lex was stretchered away.

"I hope he's going to be okay, he is a true genius" he observed.

"I self centred egotist, I'd say Clark." Lois countered.

"You know what I wish" She asked.

"What's that Lois?"

"That we'd a decent photographer with us today."

"Oh I might yet surprise you Lois."

"After flying with Superman? Come on Clark nothing you could do would be surprising in the least."


	24. Chapter 24

Clark stared at the grainy photograph of Superman assisting the second Campbell Scott Fire Bird to earth. Taylor had bought Oslen's pictures, and the kid had earned some serious dollars from his perspective.

More significantly for Jimmy because his pictures had made the front page, Taylor had offered the boy work as a cub reporter and photographer at the Daily Star, which he had enthusiastically taken. Jimmy had a new hero, Clark Kent, the man who had got him his dream job, taking him from being just another newsboy selling the Star on the street, to an apprentice reporter for the same great metropolitan newspaper.

Kent reflected that as good as Oslen's original shots from the Air show had been, a lot of the finer detail had been lost in the translation into newsprint, simply this wasn't the best medium to reproduce images, and that suited Clark. The small grey image of a man appearing to hang underneath a much bigger aircraft justified the headline Taylor had chosen. 'Flying Super Man?' Taylor was sticking with his non committal editorial line – letting Metropolis come to it's own conclusions.

Lois however had her own big headline on the right hand side of the front page: 'I flew with Superman; a Reporters story', because this time she could cite the Congressmen among those who witnessed her descent from the sky in the Man of Tomorrow's arms.

Taylor had given her the opportunity to tell her personal story, balancing this with a more sceptical reporting in the related articles; one titled 'True Flight or Invisible Parachute?'

Clark noted Lois downplayed her own heroics, in her article the thief had fallen foul on his own knife as the plane tumbled out of control.

The Editor still vetoed certain Superman facts, such as the assertion that the Man of Steel was bullet proof, he called this cautious approach taking things one step at a time.

Kent's phone rang. It was the operator from the front desk.

"Kent, I've a woman on the line asking to speak to you, she won't give me her name, but she says she needs to talk to you, says it's a story – you want to take her call?"

"Sure put her through."

"Hello, this is Clark Kent speaking who is this please."

"Mr Kent I believe you work alongside Lois Lane?"

"We've shared a byline more than once." Clark replied. Again he asked. "Who is this?"

"Sorry Mr Kent, I'm not going to tell who I am - not over the telephone. But I have to know - is it true you are in contact with Superman?"

"Look Miss, whoever you are, what is this about?"

"Mr Kent this is matter of great importance. I can't..."

Clark determined that whatever was going on this mystery woman sounded scared.

"Look Mr Kent I know this is strange but how about I meet you? I promise you this is a bigger story than you can imagine."

"Perhaps – Okay I'll chance it."

"Good, I promise you won't regret this; how about tonight after dark, say ten."

"I can do that – I hope this is a genuine call Miss."

"It is Mr Kent – it's a matter of life and death."

"Very well - Where?"

"There's a diner; Maggie's on the corner Washington Street down from the Star building, the far right corner booth."

"Yeah, got it, know it, ten tonight."

"Come alone Mr Kent, or not at all."

Clark heard the phone go dead, she had disconnected abruptly. Okay he thought to himself; I wonder where this is going to lead?

-'S'-

Clark entered Maggie's diner, it was typical prefabricated trailer building, but he found the rich smell of meat frying and hot coffee welcoming.

He found the far booth – there was a reserved notice on the table.

Thinking that made sense Clark took a seat and a waitress quickly came over with a breezy air and kind smile.

"What can I get you Mister?"

"Just a coffee please."

"Okay honey."

Coming back she poured a hot steaming cup for Clark. "Cream?"

"Yes thanks, be generous, I'm a country boy."

The Waitress watched Clark add sugar from pot.

"You sure like it sweet."

"Need the sugar to keep me sweet." He joked.

"You meeting someone?"

"Maybe." Clark said warily.

"Mind if I ask you your name honey?

"Kent, Clark Kent - Are you the lady that called me?"

The waitress smiled but shook her head. She placed an envelope on the table with his name on it, and left him.

Clark opened it.

'Mr Kent, you will find me across the street in the lobby of the older building opposite, come over directly. If I am not there you can assume I have observed you are either not alone or have been followed.'

It was a typed note, Clark checked for prints using his enhanced vision; but it was clean. Very professional he thought.

Drinking down the coffee, he paid and exited.

Outside he reflected on how well the bright lights of the diner illuminated this section of the street. Easy to see who is who, Clark observed. Again it spoke of forethought, and experience;of a plan.

There was only one adjacent building that by Metropolis standards qualified as old, and being given over to offices it was unoccupied at this late hour. Clark of course could see all of this; just as he could also see a figure hiding in the shadows of the open outer lobby.

Checking that no one else in the immediate area was paying him any special attention Clark crossed the street, remaining observant, before sinking into the shadows.

"Hello?" He called out quietly, pretending to be unsure.

A lighter briefly illuminated the night, gloved hands held a cigarette, a dark hat tipped forward hiding a face, a long trench coat hung loosely tied around a narrow frame. Long pants were visible crumpled around a pair of leather shoes.

"A woman called me." Clark permitted the charade to continue, despite seeing through the disguise, recognising who stood across from him.

"That was me." She walked closer, lifting her head so he could see the feminine shape of her features.

He stopped playing her game. "Dolores De Winters - I am Clark Kent, and I'd like to know why you've gone to such elaborate lengths to speak with me."

"No flies on you Kent."

"Why me Miss De Winters?"

The actress drew on her cigarette. "Walk with me Mr Kent."

She turned away, Clark considered himself a student of human nature; studiously observing the minutiae of voice, and movement. De Winters was actually a better actress than he had imagined, she was effecting a masculine walk, together they appeared to be a couple of guys out on the town.

"I find this all quite disconcerting."

"Never seen a dame in pants before Kent?"

"hmm you still haven't answered my question."

"You wrote the piece in the Daily Star about Evelyn Curry, you told the world she was innocent, her and the Sims guy."

"Yes I did, but I have to remind you that Lois Lane and I work together; and she believes Butch Matson and Dolores De Winters were more than just casual associates."

"That doesn't surprise me, we got on off on the wrong foot I think, Lane and I

"Okay I'll be straight with you; I'm not a good girl Mr Kent, and I've done things I wouldn't want to tell my mother about, but I'm not a criminal."

Clark considered this. "Let's assume for the sake of argument, that I have a good reason to believe you.

"That I suspect Butch was putting the squeeze on you."

De Winters nodded.

"Okay, what is it I can do for you?"

"Truth is I'm afraid Mr Kent, I have to be very careful."

"That I can see. You're an impressive operator."

"I'm an actress Mr Kent. I've read plenty of scripts, I know how these things go down."

"Perhaps that does explain it. But Matson is behind bars - the police have his papers, and pictures." Clark observed. "What is there to fear from him?"

De Winters shook her head. "You don't understand Mr Kent. Matson is part of something bigger."

"And you're concerned that his people might be coming after you?"

De Winters stopped and grabbed his arm. "Look Kent I did what I was told, but Matson, he wasn't the main man - the big boss."

"Now that is interesting.

"But why not tell the police this? I know you had chance to talk to Detective McBrodie; but you didn't." Clark made a veiled accusation.

"You don't understand. If I talked to the police I'd be dead."

"Are you saying Metro-PD is corrupt?"

"It's not as simple as that, he'd know,or he'd find out, you don't understand this person has the power to do amazing things.

"When I saw Superman charge into Matson's apartment something happened."

"What?"

"I can't get into that now, but lets say I started to see things differently."

"Then later as I put things together I got really scared. I began to think that maybe Superman was working for him, the Big Boss I mean."

Clark frowned. "You thought Superman was working for this mob boss?"

"He's not the mob, he uses people, and Matson was just one of them! For all I knew Superman too, I could see him sending someone like Superman to take out Matson."

"What? That doesn't make sense."

"If Matson crossed him, failed him, if he just didn't need him any more, then yes."

"Superman isn't anyone's stooge. I don't understand how you could think he was?"

"If you'd seen the incredible things I've seen then you wouldn't think anything else."

"What do you expect me to do – I still don't understand why you turned to me; I'm just an reporter?"

Tears welled into De Winters eyes. "Mr Kent I don't know who to turn to, you believed Evelyn Curry was innocent, when everyone didn't."

"Yes but you should know from the follow up story that I wrote with my partner - with Lois Lane, that it was Superman who saved Curry; as for me - I just reported what happened.

"I talked to Superman after he stopped the alleged shooter being lynched. If he can't be trusted I don't see why you'd trust me? Besides I know Superman is on the level"

"Your right Mr Kent, I didn't trust you. In fact I didn't trust anyone! Least of all Superman.

"But then Superman stopped the Flame Bird plane being stolen and it was then I realised I had been wrong - that Superman wasn't working for... him."

"What are you saying?" Clark asked. "That this mystery villain is behind that business at Pegasus Field?"

"Yes! That, and only God knows what else, he's a monster Mr Kent. She began to well up.

"Here." Clark gave De Winters his handkerchief. "Guys in pants don't usually cry. Dry your eyes, and tell me what you want me to do."

"Why – I want you to speak with Superman, I want Superman to take this monster down, and you are the only person I know who can get in contact with Superman; well the only person who might give me the time of day, that is."

Clark saw the muzzle flash long before he heard the gunshots; it was easy for him to position his body between the approaching bullets and fragile woman.

Kent had been walking nearest the road, just because Dolores was dressed as a man did not mean Clark had allowed himself to forget she was woman.

Deliberately falling as he blocked the bullets path, he caught her and brought her down with him, taking them both out of the line of fire. Extending his other arm as they tumbled to ensure she didn't strike the sidewalk, covering her with his own invulnerable body the remainder of the automatic fire struck the building beside them.

The drive by shooter, seeing both figures tumble was confident he had hit both of them, ducking back inside the car, he urged his wheel man to make their getaway. Clark memorised details as the auto as it sped away, a flathead engined sedan, he noted the registration; he listened to the distinct exhaust note.

Just like his pa's hound could differentiate between the family truck and a strangers automobile; welcoming one, and barking noisily at the other, so Clark as a boy had taken notice, and found with a little practise he had been able to master the same trick.

Now he fixed his concentration on the sound of escaping vehicle.

"Are you all right?" He asked quickly already knowing De Winters was physically safe.

"Yes." She spluttered. "You?"

"Yeah I think so. Look I am going to make a call." Clark bundled De Winters into a doorway. "Stay out of sight. I'll be back as quick as I can."

Too stunned and frightened to object she nodded.

Clark sprinted away, ducking out of sight.

Superman leapt skyward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sought out the distinctive sound of the Ford.

Being able to hone in on one distinctive sound source was instinctual to him. He had grown up learning to adjust to the increasing sensitivity and range of his hearing, and with each passing year the Man of Tomorrow had necessarily become adept at filtering out sounds.

Now he was able to identify among all others the one tonal source that held his interest, even against the cacophony of background noise that was a modern city like Metropolis.

The sedan had first taken a convoluted path away from the shooting, initially at great speed, then after putting some distance between the crime and themselves the bad guys had relaxed. Believing they had got away from the scene without being identified they melted into the night traffic, not realising their auto was a distinct beacon of sound, and that they were being hunted by a the superior senses of the Man of Tomorrow.

Pausing atop a building Superman observed the city. He still was growing accustomed to his new found dominance of gravity, and for the moment preferred the concrete sense of standing to hovering.

Zeroing in on the auto he was torn between pursuing it and making sure De Winters came to know further harm.

He looked back telescopically to her location, she was still huddled in the door way waiting for Clark's return; he made a decision.

Superman leapt forwards his Cloak billowing behind him stretching into the shape of the triangular shield that was his emblem. Somersaulting the man of steel touched the pavement in front of the moving car, the driver slammed on his brakes, but it was Superman who brought the vehicle to halt, allowing himself to be pushed backwards whilst bringing the sedan to a controlled halt, his mighty muscles gripping the road through his feet.

The occupants despite bracing themselves were thrown forward, and as they struggled to get a grasp on what was happening they were tipped back in the opposite direction by gravity as Superman hoisted the big Ford above his head, snapping the prop shaft he disabled the car, then he attempted something still new to him, pushing up, up, away, he took flight.

This was not one of his usual leaps, previously lifting the combined mass of men and car into the air would have demanded huge burst of force and would have left the pavement damaged beneath his feet; but this was newly evolved Man of Steel demonstrating controlled defiance of gravity.

He performed the sky jump with the balance and poise of a dancer.

Fingers digging into the steel chassis Superman flew skywards and then moments later dropped the Ford atop a high jutting ledge of a tall angular building, chosen because it was wide enough to accommodate most - but by no means all the vehicle's width; he poked the sedan, it seemed to rest solidly enough.

"I've just got to go and help someone out, now you could choose to open the doors on this side of the automobile but you'll find there is a thirty story drop below you, and also while your motor feels stable enough at the moment, I'd probably stay sitting on the side nearest the building if were you.

"I won't be long fellas, then we'll have a conversation about how it's wrong to shoot people."

"Dolores?" Clark bent down and helped the actress to her feet. He helped her over to a waiting cab.

"Is that guy all right?" The driver asked.

"We're sober if that's what you mean." Clark responded before instructing the cab to take them up town to De Winters apartment building.

"Eyes front buster. You as well Mr Taxi Driver." Dolores announced. The cabbie obliged by dipping his mirror, Clark looked away.

De Winters without any compunction pulled off her hat and coat, beneath was a woman's suit, the matching skirt was hitched high tucked in the pants she now removed, kicking off the heavy shoes, she took out pair of flat pumps from the long coat's pockets.

Sliding the skirt back down over her long legs, Dolores then applied lipstick using a compact mirror. She looked all woman again.

"Driver just pull over a moment." She instructed. The big yellow cab slowed to a halt.

"What's the problem?"

"Mr Kent, I can't go home. Clearly he knows that I've met you. They will be watching my apartment."

Clark considered this for a moment.

"True, and we're going to have to assume whoever ordered this hit must have known about our meeting. That means they were probably gunning for me too – and that my place is no safer than yours."

Kent opened the Cab door.

"Where are you going?" Dolores asked, still panicked.

Clark scribbled on his business card, and passed it her. Leaning in close he whispered. "Keep your face hidden; I know you can do that; and go to this address, you'll be safe there – I promise. Say that I sent you. I'll meet you there.

"Don't worry I'm just going to clear up some loose ends."

Superman returned to where he'd 'parked' the Ford. The two thugs had taken his advice and were almost sitting atop of each other on the far side of the vehicle. Snatching the car up once more Superman powered sky ward with the vehicle in tow.

Lifting the big Ford he balanced the car atop the buildings highest point, where it twitched nervously. Tapping it with his foot, Superman let it rock gently back and forth, giving the occupants alternative views through the cars windshield; the stars above them, and then distant city scape many stories below them.

"Now gentlemen, who are you working for, who told you to carry out the hit?"

-'S'-

"Miss Lane there is a telephone call for you." The waiter told her.

McBrodie shook his head. "I bring you to a classy joint like this and still work follows you; Lois seriously I thought my job made a social life difficult."

Lois looked apologetically at her date.

"Who is it?" Lois asked the waiter.

"The Gentlemen declined to give his name, but did say it was a matter of some importance, regarding a Mr Kent."

Lane excused herself. "Steven I'm sorry, honestly I didn't leave a number with the Star to reach me, quite the opposite actually."

Leaving the floor of the nightclub and the music behind she picked up the receiver in the booth. "Hello?"

"Lois this is Clark, and no! Don't say my name! I need you to do me a favour"

Lois sighed exasperated, but played along. "You know that I'm on a date! Don't you have a social life?" Lois asked. Blast him; she was trying to be nice to McBrodie tonight, her off hand remark about him to Superman – about McBrodie not being her boyfriend had made for an uncomfortable evening, not that he'd said anything, he was a typical guy, Lois had been around typical guys all her life. Now this atypical guy called Clark Kent had interrupted their plans.

"This better be good 'Mr Smith'."

"I need you to call in a story for me?"

"What gives?"

"This is going to sound a little strange."

"What? Do you mean stranger than unassisted human flight?"

"Maybe, I need you to report the unfortunate death of Miss Dolores De Winters and..."

"What? When? How?" Lois interrupted him.

"And. The death of Clark Kent; and I need you to ask your boyfriend to cover the official side of things, wait Lois on second thoughts lets say De Winters is a Jane Doe, no I.D on her, identification to follow; best not attract too much attention to this story just yet."

"Wait – you're... I mean Smithy – just what's going on?"  
Clark very briefly ran through the nights events. "So you see the somebody that wants De Winters dead, is the same somebody that organised the Flamebird theft. Maybe it's the same person who spoke to you on the radio back on the plane.

"And that same somebody must have meant me to die too, or maybe not, maybe I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time – either way it's better whoever ordered this hit thinks it succeeded."

"Hang on Smithy where are you?"

"Superman will tell you where we are when he meets you down at Metro-PD Central."

"Superman?"

"Yeah, he saved Dolores and yours truly, thank goodness. He will turn over the bad guys to Detective McBrodie when you arrive."

"This isn't going to be easy, McBrodie isn't a fan of Superman."

"But he's a good cop – I'm sure you can make him see how important this is."

"Yes. I'm sure I can, and by the way we're sharing this byline."

"Sure thing partner.

"Oh and Lois it might look good if you could look a little upset when you get off the line, rather than mad?"

"What do you mean – how do you know what I look like?"

"Lucky guess?" Clark suggested. "Besides this unexpected call you're currently taking is obviously to inform you that Clark Kent has been gunned down, and I'd kind of like to think that you would be at least a little sad..."

"Smithy!" Lois hissed. "Don't push your luck."

-'S'-

Superman lowered the big Ford sedan to the pavement directly outside Metropolis Police Department Central Division Head Quarters.

His timing was perfect, as the cab carrying Lane and McBrodie pulled up at the self same moment. The dinner suited Detective leapt out, joined by Lois.

Superman dropped to the ground beside them as policemen came running towards the downed vehicle.

"Good Evening Miss Lane. Detective.

"I'm sorry that tonight's unfortunate events should have interrupted your plans."

"What's going on Superman?" McBrodie demanded. "You realise you are still required to come in for questioning."

"These two men I'm sure will be more than happy to answer your questions; and they will tell you how they took part in drive by shooting earlier this evening – gunning down a young woman and a Mr Kent, a reporter from the Daily Star. Unfortunately they know very little about who ordered the hit, or why, only the colour of his money seemed to matter.

"You have my condolences Miss Lane, it must be difficult for you. Mr Kent I know was your colleague." Supeman winked a Lois.

"Yes." She said flatly. "It's the worst news."

Police guns were being aimed at Superman's back. McBrodie quickly shouted out to the officers to concentrate on arresting the two terrified gunmen. Who were quickly dragged out of the automobile and cuffed.

Lois took hold of McBrodie's arm.

"Steven I have to talk to Superman – about Clark."

"I realise that Lois, but you can't do it here, somebody is going to try and arrest Superman even if I don't."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Lois. Looks like we all have to work tonight." McBrodie looked Superman in the eye. "I'm not happy working with you on this, but I got to say 'Smithy' is right – Metropolis needs to know that two people died tonight. I look forward to hearing all the details as soon as 'Smithy' has them."

"Of course, I'm sure 'Smithy' will do his best.

"Good night Detective, and thank you for your help." The Man of Steel said, wrapping an arm around Lois's waist. "With your permission Miss Lane."

She barely had time to nod before they were airborne over the city. It was for her a far too short a journey to the roof of the Star building. A mere hop for the mighty Man of Steel. Alighting beneath the large illuminated logo, Lois slowly let go of his warm torso.

He smiled.

"Superman what's going on – why is someone gunning for De Winters?

"And where is Clark Kent."

"Here take this." He replied.

It was one of Kent's newly minted business cards. On the back he'd written an address, she recognised it being in a suburban district across the river

"Mr Kent's uncle – a Mr Bennett, lives at that address. Seemingly he is a Lawyer of some note. Mr Kent hopes he can rely on his professional discretion in this matter, he'll call once he and Miss De Winters are safe. Until then he asks if you'd stay here."

"What are you going to do now?"

"There are more people in Metropolis that need my help Lois – and I believe you need to file a story about the shooting of an unidentified woman, and an unfortunate journalist.

"Good night." He waved, then turned away.

Superman leapt into the air and into the night; flying across Troy State Island to the suburbs the Man of tomorrow vanished and Clark Kent rang the door bell of a large property in a nice street.

The door opened and a tall woman answered.

"Aunt Mary, it's Clark Kent. Martha's boy."

"Clark is that really you?"

"Yes Maam, may I come in?"

"Sorry yes, of course. Although Clark your uncle is less than happy, I must warn you, really this is most inconsiderate of you."

Clark closed the door and removed his hat.

"My word Clark you have changed."

Kent smiled sheepishly.

"I'm very sorry Aunt Mary for imposing on you both like this.

"Really I was left with little choice. I needed someone I could trust completely; and of course Uncle Nathaniel was the man I knew I should turn to."

His Aunt allowed his sincerity to flatter her, and her stern features mellowed. "This way Clark, the young lady you sent to us arrived not long ago, she is waiting in the front room. Let me tell Nathan you are finally here."

Clark followed his Aunt's directions.

Dolores was sat beside the fire place, a stiff drink in her hand. She stood to greet him.

"Mr Kent." Throwing her arms around him. Depositing a red lipstick mark on his cheek.

"Oops." She said rubbing the colour from his skin with the handkerchief he'd given her.

"Thank you for this; how fortunate you had family on this the oh so quiet side of town."

Clark heard his Uncle before he arrived, however the older man made his presence known; just as Dolores set about removing the lip mark from his face.

"Young man, perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell me why you have disturbed us so late this evening, and maybe you might also tell me who this young lady really is? Since she was unwilling to do so herself."

"Can I offer you a drink? Do you drink, I forget how old you are exactly. Younger than Gary as I remember. You look older, must have been living a hard life these last few years I wager - blast it's been a long time since I saw you boy." Nathaniel Bennett spoke quickly, almost snapping his words out.

"The dust bowl has been difficult for everyone at home sir."

"Yes of course Clark, terrible for the nation, a disaster."

"And Deedee, if indeed that is your name."

"Yes Mr Bennett, it's the name I like the most, even if not the one my mom gave me."

"I see all too well my dear, and I suspect you won't say no to another top up?"

Dolores offered him her glass.

"How about you Clark?"

"No thank you Uncle Nathaniel." Kent replied. Gesturing to Dolores to sit down, he put his finger to his lips, asking her to be quiet, while he spoke with his uncle.

"I do apologise descending upon you so soon after writing to you, but circumstances demand that I seek out professional help."

"Take a seat Clark, and tell what trouble have you gotten yourself into boy? Is it this young woman?

"I do declare there is something familiar about you Miss – have we met?"

Clark relaxed on the sofa opposite his Uncle's high backed Chair. The older man opened a ornate cigarette box.

"You don't mind if I smoke do you?" He asked Dolores, offering the box to Clark who refused, she however reached out and took one.

Nathaniel appeared a little surprised, shaking his head he disapprovingly gave her a light.

"Now Clark, I think you need tell me what's going on."

Kent adjusted his glasses, the heavy lenses tended to make the frames slide forward on his nose.

"As you know Sir, from my recent letter, I am working at the Daily Star."

"Indeed how surprising; and from your business card, I see you are an accredited reporter for the paper." Nathaniel held up the note Clark had scribbled and given Dolores. She had used this to introduce herself to Mr Bennett.

"Have to say son, I am still surprised that you are here - in Metropolis I mean. I never expected a Kent to leave that farm – but then again who expects disaster to strike? Your Aunt tells me your Parents are now over in Maryland."

Clark nodded. His Uncle continued in characteristic fashion. "I confess it's been so long since we were in Smallville, I wouldn't have recognised you."

"It's these glasses sir, I think, people have told me that."

"Well you look healthy enough, city life must be agreeing with you – you're certainly a big fella these days; but enough of that.

"From what little you and Deedee are telling me, I know that you require my help professionally. I warn you son that I charge by the hour and rate double outside office hours."

"I appreciate that Uncle Nathaniel. Let me begin with an introduction. Sir this is Dolores De Winters."

The older man lent forward. "The Name is familiar."

Dolores laughed.

"She is an actress." Clark said. "Quite a famous one as it happens."

"Of stage and screen." De Winters added.

"Ah ha, that actress! The actress that was questioned when that Matson character was arrested?"

"Yes sir."

"It sounds like you are in a pickle son. You are an odd couple; but who am I to judge."

Dolores laughed again, however warmly, catching Clark's eye she winked at him.

"No Sir." Kent stammered. "It's nothing like that." He quickly described how they had escaped being shot.

Nathaniel Bennett stood up, clearly alarmed by this admission. "I don't appreciate you bringing yourself or this woman to this house Clark. I take it you are both in danger, because Miss De Winters has made some poor choices.

"Granted, that is my stock and trade. I practise criminal law, but I make a point never to bring my work home with me."

"Hey!" Dolores exclaimed. "I'm not a criminal and your nephew here – well he is a hero!

"Clark threw himself across me when those shots rang out, he could have tried to save himself, and he could have won an easy headline; 'Starlet gunned down' but he didn't.

"If you can't appreciate that, then you're priorities are messed up."

Nathaniel looked both shocked and then angry – but also chastened.

Clark spoke quietly but firmly. "Uncle Nathaniel please let me explain."

The older man sat back down. "Very well Clark, I'm listening."

"I am sorry for coming to your home late, unannounced, and in a jam.

"But sir I can tell you that whoever was seeking our lives, has every reason to believe they succeeded. That we are dead.

"If however we were to be seen, then the breathing space that belief creates, well that would be lost to us.

"And given Miss De Winters notoriety... I'm sure you can see why I didn't want to take a chance trying to rent a room.

"That's why I need help from a trustworthy professional like yourself."

Bennett nodded. "Granted Clark that does put a different perspective on things. Are you absolutely sure the shooter believes you are both dead?"

"They had to see us fall – otherwise why drive away?

"Thing is Uncle Nathaniel, tomorrow's Daily Star will confirm it. My partner at the paper will report that I died alongside an unidentified woman." Clark gestured to Dolores. "What's more important is that I've been told the Police now have the gunmen in custody."

De Winters leant forward saying. "That's fantastic news Clark; and so clever of you to make sure everyone thinks we're dead."

Clark nodded apparently embarrassed by her praise. "Also a Detective at Metro-PD a 'friend of a friend', knows what's going on; why we are playing dead and he is covering for us – so as far as Metropolis knows we are officially no more."

He looked directly at his Uncle. "Please believe me sir, when I say I wouldn't have come here if I thought I was endangering Aunt Mary or you."

Nathaniel considered these further revelations.

"Very well Clark, I will help you.

"And I'm sorry if I appeared hard or unfeeling before.

"I do sympathise with your situation, you being new to town turned to family and that I can understand – do not, however, presume to impose upon my kindness like this a second time.

"You have chosen a notorious profession, and you will undoubtedly run into trouble again, I telling you this son for your own good, you need to make provisions for unexpected circumstances in your line of work.

"You may both stay here tonight, and in the morning when I get into my office and organise you a suitable discrete address.

"Hopefully the Police will be able to clear this matter up quickly, now they have arrested the gunmen, and that will allow you both to return Lazarus like from the dead.

"As for tonight, I believe your Aunt has made the guest room ready for Deedee.

"For you Clark I think you best bunk down in Gary's old room.

"If that's all son, I suggest we all get some sleep."

"Yes sir – thank you, but I need to make a phone call first, if I may."

His Uncle nodded. Clark followed him into the hall, before bidding him goodnight. Kent picked up the receiver.

Steve Lombard's wolf whistle echoed across the Newsroom, he made a typically boisterous entrance, and Lois returned his attention with a withering stare, her pale blue sequinned evening gown was stunning, she knew it, but it wasn't being worn the benefit of the Star's Sports writer.

She was still fuming over her ruined date; she knew she looked good! Lombard could see it, McBrodie saw it – but did Superman? Yet he flew her here, held her close – did he need to do that? Then when they were together he'd barely spoken, and then only about the story – the case, the mystery behind the Pegasus Field incident. Of course that was important, but could this be all Lois was to the Man of Steel, was she just another person that needed help, someone who is just part of the bigger story – Superman's quest for truth and justice?

"How's the Sports Desk Lombard?" She asked. "Still reporting those world changing stories?"

Lombard put his feet up and lent back in his chair, he poured himself a drink.

"Well I get to write up about an exciting boxing match between two latter day gladiators. What's happening with you?"

"Obituary Lombard."

"That's world changing."

"It is for late Clark Kent."

"What? The new guy, the chump? You're kidding.

Lois swung around in her chair, she played her part coolly. "Yeah gunned down in the street. Read all about it in tomorrow's edition."

"Damn it Lane you know how to put the dampeners on an evening, hell I didn't know the guy really but one of our own, Damn."

Lombard downed his glass of bourbon, and poured another.

Lois span back around. Her phone was ringing.

"Hello Lane."

"It's errr... Mr Smith."

"Yeah, Smithy, Lombard and I are having a wake here, what's new with you?"

"We're both here. We're both Okay."

"Great, you want I should come over?"

"Tomorrow."

"Fine. I'll just finish up here. Until tomorrow Mr Smith."

Lois put the receiver down. "I can hardly wait." She said aloud.

Clark rejoined De Winters. "Bed time?" She asked with a wry smile.

"Not yet. Not until you tell me who we're dealing with, who is this mysterious and powerful man that tried to kill us?"

Dolores picked up her glass, and walked to the sideboard where she helped herself to Bennett's decanter, adding a splash of soda. "Can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks. Just some answers please Deedee." Clark replied. "It's like you are stalling and I don't know why."

De Winters sank gracefully down next to him on the couch. "Okay; but you've got to understand this isn't easy for me, I'm just putting the pieces together myself."

"What do you mean?"

"Look it all begins with Matson."

"He was blackmailing you right?"

"Yes he had some pictures." The actress blushed. "I was young and stupid, this guy said he'd take some artistic shots of me, said he could help my career.

"Well he took some shots of me all right, got me loaded and sweet talked me out of my underwear. I'm not proud of that Clark, and the result was any thing but artistic.

"I had a sugar daddy back then, a sweet fella, he got hold of the negatives, for a price, and that was that, until Matson let me know he had copies."

"So what was his angle? Money?"

"No not really, I mean sure at first I paid him, didn't know what else to do, I just broken into movies, and I had film coming out, that kind of publicity would have killed my career. In that way his timing was perfect, I don't know how long he'd had those pictures – waiting until he could make the best use of them.

"After a while he got me to run packages, letters, sometimes suitcases even. There were times I flew back and forth to Los Angeles from Metropolis, or maybe I got to go to New York; always because of my work as an actress, he took advantage of that, he made me a courier; he thought it was funny.

"But that's not where the trouble really begins."

"Go on Deedee. What do you mean?"

Dolores knocked back her drink. She seemed to struggle for a moment.

Clark took her hand. "It's okay Deedee, just relax and tell me what you know. I'm not going to judge you."

She looked away ashamed, saying. "For the longest time I felt like I was living in a daze, I wasn't sleeping, yet I was sleeping late, late for me even, long into the afternoon, and I was always tired. It's hard to explain; I wasn't myself.

"Then I was over at Matson's place. I had received a message, he wanted to talk to me – I assumed he had a package he wanted transported or collected. Any way I get there and he's not around, no great surprise, but he has company, in shape of Lois Lane."

"Lois told me about your conversation."

"Yeah, well we got off on the wrong foot, I thought she was heading for a pair of concrete shoes. I just wanted her to drop the hard headed act – for her own good, Matson could be quite a pussy cat if a girl played him right."

Clark laughed. "You weren't going to win over Lane; she's single minded."

Dolores nodded. "Well she's your partner right? So I'd expect you'd know that all too well."

Dolores stubbed out her cigarette.

"Then Superman arrived. I can't explain what happened to me exactly, except he had broken 'the Butcher' Matson like he was nothing- just a school yard bully; he was so in control, he was one side of the room and then next, I looked into his eyes and something snapped in head."

"What on earth do you mean."

"Memories Clark. Things came rushing back, it was like watching an editing reel from a movie, where everything was out of order, and broken up."

Clark leant back against the sofa. "Before on the street - you told me you thought Superman was working for the Big Boss. Is that why, because you remembered these things when you saw him?"

"Yes I guess so." She replied.

Clark frowned. "And why did Superman's appearance trigger these memories – and why would you have hidden memories in the first place?"

"Exactly!" Dolores agreed. "That's how I spent the next few hours, wondering the self same thing!

"It just made sense to me; that Superman was connected somehow to these crazy thoughts and images that were in my head.

"I've being trying to piece it all together since then."

"And have you?"

"I think I might be closer to understanding things, well at least part of it.

"I was listening to Metro-Wave when the Flame Bird Plane was stolen. I immediately knew that 'he' was connected to this crime."

"How?" Clark asked.

"I remembered things, like how Matson's contacts in Los Angeles had introduced me to these aero-industry types."

"Right were these were guys from Campbell Scott?"

"Yes – that's right. I was told they wanted me to cosy up to this young guy they had working for that company, he was some sort of genius."

"Lex Luthor?"

"Yeah you know him?"

"We've met."

"So long story short I let Luthor wine and dine me, he was interesting enough, quite sweet really.

"I remember going out to see the planes Lex was building. Then things go fuzzy; I'm not sure what happened after that; all I recall is waking up late afternoon the next day in my place in L.A - but that's part of it Clark; I don't remember big pieces of what being happening over the last few months.

"The thing is this didn't even begin to bother me until I saw Matson being dropped like a big kid at feet of Superman."

"So you didn't remember chunks of day to day life, and that didn't strike you as strange?"

"Yes exactly. Now you understand. My life didn't feel strange, not until that moment in Stanwix Penthouse, then as I said something snapped, and everything seemed to be nuts.

"I think it was seeing Matson beaten.

"You see I was meant to do as Butch told me; that much I do know for sure; and seeing him bettered like that... I can't put this into words, because then there was Superman; his incredibly blue eyes, it was like he was telling me I didn't have to be afraid any more, everything was going to be all right.

"I'm sorry if this doesn't seem to make sense."

"Deedee, its okay, it does to me, most of it any way. Clearly something been done to your mind.

"So don't fret. Just relax and tell me all you can remember.

"I am Clark honestly I am."

Kent nodded. "I believe you.

"Deedee, you said from the outset that Matson wasn't the big boss, that he took his orders from the guy who planned the Campbell Scott raid; I don't want to push you too hard, but you haven't even given me a name yet."

"Sorry,.. it's like,.. it's hard for me to say his name... Yet, that's the first thing I remember, and the last thing I remember.

"Okay – sorry that doesn't make sense."

"It does. It makes sense to me - if you had mental block put in your mind hypnotically that is."

She looked confused.

"Mesmerism." he explained.

"I don't know Clark, perhaps – it must be something like that."

"Okay Deedee. Go over it again – that moment of realisation you had at the Stanwix."

"Right, well the first thing I felt was confusion, because y' know Matson was bowing before Superman, but Superman wasn't him, it was all wrong, this image I was seeing, but I didn't know who 'he' was. Then I saw Superman's eyes, and I felt safe; and then just as suddenly I saw 'him' the real bad guy, and that image terrified me."

"Then what happened?"

"I couldn't make sense of it. I was taken down town. My Lawyer came over and looked after me while I was at Metro-PD, I wasn't thinking straight to be honest.

"Then I went home, but I couldn't sleep, and so I took something to help me, then the dreams came, nightmares really – I saw his face in my dreams, and after that I woke up I remembered him – who he said he was."

"Who is he?"

Dolores gasped. "The Ultra-Humanite."


	25. Chapter 25

The hills outside Metropolis were a dramatic backdrop for some of more exclusive estates that bordered the newest and greatest city on the northern seaboard

Built to eclipse the last centuries historic urban centres unfettered by dated technology; modern planning had a built a city for the age automobile. Metropolis was a bright new urban utopia – the Twentieth Century's Golden Apple.

The Estates that nestled in the scenic countryside were from a different time, that aped the splendours of a bygone age, of European aristocracy. Great mansions sitting in landscaped parkland, built for and by the new worlds first families of industry and commerce.

One such palatial home was deceptively fortified; men and dogs patrolled the walls, huge gates were locked and guarded. This splendid home was the castle of a private man.

"Are you certain the operatives were successful?" The seated figure asked.

"Yes Sir. Although the superhuman who interfered with our acquisition of the Campbell Scott prototype apprehended them, it is confirmed by our source at Metro-PD that they are being held for murder."

With a hum from electrical motors the powered wheel chair turned and moved forward. From the huge bay window the dawn over Metropolis could be seen. The man framed in the light cut a tragic figure.

An oversize hat covered his head, wisps of fine white hair fell from beneath the brim. Gaunt and long faced he looked pale and sickly. His head was held in a brace, as if his neck was incapable of supporting it's weight.

Most of his body was hidden within the structure of the chair that encased his lower body. His over long arms rested on table like structure built above his knees. His chest in a loose fitting white jacket.

The chair whirred again rotating to bring him face to face with his agent. Behind the well dressed man a large panelled room was lined with book cases.

"Very good. Now our objective must be the acquisition of this superhuman interloper, this Superman, I must understand his origins."

"Sir I have been studying the security arrangements surrounding the surviving Flame Bird, and I believe I could still access the airframe."

"Reynolds your thoroughness is admirable, but unfortunately young Mr Luthor has suffered what appears to be a nervous breakdown, and no repairs have been completed, or are likely to be.

"Further after the embarrassment of losing one plane and seeing the second downed, Campbell Scott are cutting their losses and abandoning the programme; they are convinced that the paymasters of the US Air Corps are not going to order this aircraft after the debacle at Pegasus Field."

"Then the transaction with our friends in Germany is finished."

"Do not fear Reynolds, I am more than able to supply our contacts with compensatory technology."

"Sir may I ask.."

"Why I chanced exposing our organisation with such a bold adventure as the public theft of a prototype airframe?"

"Yes Sir, that was troubling me.

"Certainly it is true my own devices eclipse this child's design completely.

"Simply said,events have served my purposes Reynolds; had the plan succeeded I would simply exchanged the aeroplane for the artefact the Germans have secured. The technological balance of the world would have remained unaffected by my superior intelligence.

"As it stands I must briefly divert my energies into creating something appropriately primitive for the Third Reich.

"However my secondary objective; to draw out Superman worked perfectly. My remote devices concealed in the first plane transmitted interesting data, which I am still processing.

"When I am ready I will inform you of my conclusions."

Reynolds left his master's presence.

-'S'-

De Winters opened the door of the swanky apartment high above the uptown district of Troy State. Lois Lane breezed past her walking to the middle angular modernist styled living room.

"I see you got Clark's message."

"Evidently" she replied. "How is life treating you Dolores?"

The actress smiled. "Lois, how nice to see you again."

"Where's Kent?"

"Clark's out running some errands, the refrigerator was empty, cupboards bare – that kind of thing."

"As long as he remembers he's supposed to be Mr Smith." Lois commented. "What happened to your hiding out over in suburbia?"

"Clark's Uncle wasn't the warm and friendly type, besides he didn't like the fact fella's were shooting at me. So he came up with the keys to this place."

Lois walked over to the panoramic window. "I can see the West Way hoardings from here, this is a flashy address, Kent's been holding out on me, he's better connected than he let's on."

"Appearances can be deceptive Lois."

Lane sat down in a easy chair. "So how come this Bennett can rustle up a place like this on short notice?"

"I reckon one of his clients is taking a break in Sing Sing." Dolores said. "Basically we're enjoying the profits of crime; oh and a nice private elevator and underground parking no less."

"Naturally." Lois said. "Bennett is defence attorney, and most of his clients aren't innocents – and most of them are rich faces, white collar types. I did my homework."

"Can I get you a coffee Lois?"

"Sure. Thanks – hot and black."

Dolores nodded. "Should have guessed you were easy to please.

"Any way that's the only way I can make it, until Clark gets back at least."

"So Dolores." Lois took the proffered cup from her. "Tell me what you know."

-'S'-

Superman covered Metropolis, moving in a series of leaps he called sky-jumps. Flight was something he was adjusting too, undeniably he could resist the force of gravity, linger, and change course in the clouds above the city, and yet his feet yearned to rest on the solid earth, I am still a son of the soil, he told himself as he sailed over a sea of concrete and steel, inhabited by teaming shoals of humanity.

Today he was a fisher of men. He had a name; given up from the frightened lips of a gunman teetering in car on the edge of oblivion. He had an address, a seedy bar, the sort of place hoodlums and lowlifes could call home. It was a beginning.

"Reynolds?" the man gasped. His stomach was jammed against the bar, Superman dragged him up from behind it.

"He drinks in here. Hires men in here."

A shot gun exploded behind him, Superman reached back taking the barrel in his other hand, shoving the stock into the chest of the man who wielded it; the gunman tumbled backwards onto the floor winded, then bringing the shotgun forward he slams the weapon onto the bar, where it bends and twists between his fingers.

"We can do this the easy way, or the easier way. The easy way is I use you like wrecking bar to take this building apart until you tell me where to find Reynolds."

"Okay, Okay. Reynolds I know the fella, yeah he comes in here sometimes, when he needs muscle, pays well, but that's all I know."

Superman drives the twisted shotgun through the bar surface like a giant nail. "I thought you were wanting to take the easier way?"

"Look I don't know... wait his car, it's a big black foreign motor, custom limousine, come on buddy I don't know any more..."

"The auto? Your sure?"

"Yeah big German car, Mercedes I think, the kind with pipes coming out the side of the hood."

"Thank you. See being helpful wasn't that difficult was it."

Clark Kent knew his automobiles. Spotting a supercharged Mercedes Benz Grosser Limousine in a city of teeming with more mundane vehicles was going to be an interesting challenge.

-'S'-

"That's a tall tale Deedee." Lois declared. "Your telling me Clark has bought into this? That you were somehow mesmerised?"

"Lois I know that you and I didn't hit it off back at Matson's, but seriously sister like I told you - I was trying to talk you around."

Dolores drew on her cigarette. "I didn't want to see you wearing concrete stilettos."

Lois looked decidedly unimpressed.

De Winters lent forward insistent. "Besides, I'm not making any of this up, why should I?"

"I don't know." Lois countered. "How about to charm a green reporter from hicksville Kansas to get you out of trouble?"

"You are really down on Clark aren't you?"

Lois stood up and poured herself another coffee. "Maybe, he's just another guy who runs at the first sign of trouble. I don't need that kind of dead weight, but my boss has taken a liking to the Okies homespun cornball charm so I'm lumbered with him."

"Hey Lois, word to the wise, you remember the one about taking the plank out of your own eye first?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that if Clark is the cautious type, then you might do a lot worse than learn a thing or too from his approach, as I remember you ended up in hot water with Matson precisely because you're so contrary."

"Hey if Kent grew a backbone I wouldn't have to fight his battles for him!"

Dolores seemed surprised. "Can't say I know that fella, the Kent I met was the kind of guy that threw himself on top of me when the bullets were flying in our direction?"

"You're kidding?"

"Right... I take it Clark didn't tell you about that, the small detail where he saved my life and all."

"No. Can't say he mentioned anything as dramatic; he said that you were shot at and dived for the floor."

"I'm on the level Lois; that's what happened."

"He really did that?"

"Sure he did, I don't know what he didn't do when he was around you Lois, but I know that when the chips were down Clark put himself between me and hot lead."

"I guess I might have misjudged him." Lois said after a short silence. "My Dad always says that you never know how a man is going to act under fire, until the bullets are flying."

"Well I guess now you know.

"How about me Lois? Do I get a second chance?" Dolores asked.

"Maybe. Let's say the jury is still out."

"Lois, it's just as I told you already." The actress snapped. Then she sighed. "Look sorry, I'm mad at myself - because I really can't remember, I'm missing hours and days of my time – and what I do remember about _him_, it's patchy – Clark thinks there is still a mental block in place."

"Putting _Dr_ Kent's opinion to one side, I would find this whole thing more valuable; story wise, if you could remember anything useful about this Ultra-Humanite character?"

"To be honest I still find it difficult to say that name." Dolores said quietly.

Lois wandered over to the big window, she sipped her coffee and thought for a moment.

"Okay Deedee, lets assume that is the case; so let's don't dwell on him, let's forget about the who he is – what does he look like, just relax and think about the background instead."

"How do you mean."

"I mean what can you remember besides the people. When you look back what can you see beside him, behind him, can you remember anything about the room, the house; anything about the location?"

Deedee closed her eyes. Lois waited, and waited a bit more.

"Well I remember a big window, and big lawn, and then in distance, Metropolis. A drive way maybe, lots of trees."

"A big house?"

"Sure it has to be. I think I remember that."

"I'm sorry I can't think of anything else."  
Lois smiled. "You realise that there is really only one place that ties into that description. The Metro Hills."

"I guess so, but Lois there are plenty big places out in there in that part of the county, plenty that have views out towards the rivers and Metropolis?"

"I know that Deedee, but come on, what have we to lose."

"Wait Lois - what are you thinking?"

"Lets drive out there – it still early, we can spend the better part of today cruising the main roads around Metro Hills. Something out there might jog that imperfect memory of yours.

"Something that might point to where the Ulra-Humanite can be found."

"What about Clark?"

"What about him? Oh, sure – I'll leave him a note. He'll be fine."

-'S'-

Superman's odyssey across Metropolis finally bore fruit, aside from his timely intervention in a number of unrelated incidents. The Man of Tomorrow had happened upon many troubles as he passed by; road accidents had to be averted, street crime was interrupted, burglaries he prevented. Now Superman's enhanced senses zeroed in on the specific German auto; the rare model he sought.

The 1938 Mercedes Benz was a second series supercharged custom bodied sedan, it drove into city from the well heeled Metro Hills district, something that was to be expected given the exclusivity of such a high end machine. Inside a well dressed man that answered to the description Superman had of Reynolds, was being chauffeured down town.

There was something striking about the conceit and self assurance of choosing such an identifiable automobile that gave Superman pause for thought. He knew this was self same car favoured by the Nazi elite of the Third Reich, and he wondered where this German connection might lead.

-'S'-

Lois gunned the big yellow ford convertible along the high road above the Metro Hills, not only was this an interesting drive, but from this elevated position they could see clearly the lay of the land, the exclusive ordered estates that they had passed coming out of Metropolis could now be better seen.

Dolores looked out at the vista below them. Lois had given her a pair of dark glasses, and a headscarf to cover her hair; it was a passable disguise and a practical one; masking her features, and stopping the wind whipping up her hair.

Lois made do with a fedora secured with a hat pin.

"Do you see anything that helps at all." She asked.

"Sorry Lois, I mean I'm familiar with the main road we came in on, but I've not seen anything that ties in with what I can remember."

"Okay, we've plenty of gas, let's try some of the side roads."

The two women weaved they way around the feeder roads, sometimes boldly driving up private roads, but Dolores shook her head each time.

"I sure there were heavy gates, no I come to think of it, I remember the car stopping for these to open."

Lois frowned, and drove on. "At least that's something, we can forget about any places without them."

"I'm sorry Lois."

"Don't worry – it's only a matter of time, there are only so many of these houses that look out across to the city, I'm sure we'll come across something, investigative journalism is nine tenths legwork, we've got to just keep plugging away."

"Whatever you say – I just don't..." Dolores stopped mid sentence, she fell forward holding her head, letting out a moaning wail.

Lois jammed on the brakes, the car came to an abrupt halt. "Dolores? What's wrong?"

"I don't know I just felt terrible, like a migraine headache just came out of nowhere, but it's easing if anything." Opening the door she stood by the side of the road, bent over. "Sorry I'm still feeling sick, I didn't want to throw up all of a sudden."

Lois joined her. "Are you sure you are going to be all right? Do you need medical attention?"

"No – I feeling much better, just give me a minute." Dolores leant back against Lois's car; panting, she seemed to catch her breath.

"Is nausea passing?" Lois asked.

"Yes, it was really strange, it came out of no where, like a bolt out of the blue."

"Take as long as you need, then maybe we should head back into town, maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all."

Deedee nodded, she was pale, and sweating, but she seemed happier.

"Lois?" She asked.

"Uh uh?"

"Do you see over there, that there." Dolores pointed to the opposite side of the road a good few yards back up the road."

"No, what are you pointing at."

"There where that dark shadow is – do you see it?"

"In those trees, you mean?" Lois squinted. "There's a dark shadow, wait is that a gateway?"

"That's a road I think." Dolores replied, "can't you see it?"

"Yes I can, I don't know how I _missed_ seeing it."

Lois got back into the car, De Winters joined her, and Lane selected reverse and wound the car back to where the shadowy gap in the trees intersected the road.

"Okay, this is very strange, why didn't we see this coming down?"

Dolores frowned. She looked a little green again.

"Are you going to be all right?" Lois asked.

"Yes, I think so, it's just this place; that sounds nuts I know, but here is where I felt worse, just before, and now it's making me feel queer again."

"Are you going to be sick? Shall I drive you away?"

"No it's not great – but it's bearable."

The two women waited silently the car idling.

Dolores looked directly at Lois. "Sister are you thinking what I'm thinking."

Lois nodded. "I think so. I'm thinking that you're having some kind of reaction to this particular track."

Dolores nodded.

Lois grabbed her shoulder. "Look, if you want bail on me here I won't hold it against, well not much any way."

"Hey! You know I want to know what's going on as much as you do; hell more than you do Lois; the stuff I've forgotten – it's my life that's been stolen from me. I want to know how and by whom?"

Lois nodded, pleased by her determination. "Then it's agreed, we're going to check this out?"

"It can't hurt to look can it?"

"I don't know Dolores, it's your head."

"It's your car. If I yell stop, stop - because I'll be throwing up."

"Okay let's do this, but first sign of trouble we high tail it out of here."

"Agreed."

Lois selected a forward ratio, and crept onto the shadowy tree lined road.

-'S'-

The big Mercedes pulled into the side of the road. Superman swiftly dropped to earth hiding behind a stack of crates, the warehousing district sat adjacent to the larger of the two rivers that created Troy State Island, the wide river mouth lay a short distance down stream feeding into the Atlantic ocean and dredgers ensured a sea channel was kept open into Metropolis for ocean going vessels. Ducking under a heavy tarpaulin that lay over the crate stack Superman slipped out of sight. In the half light he opened his hidden super-compressed backpack, which he had attached to costume beneath his cloak, Superman unfolded a fashionable double breasted coat and pleated pants, two piece suit. A second smaller folding case contained stage make up, and a small mirror. Quickly he applied colour to darken the skin tone of his face and hands, and then using spirit gum adhesive Superman attached a moustache.

Pulling the new suit over his costume he first checked no one was around to see him as he emerged as Smithy. Superman immediately cut a different profile from his bespectacled reporter alter ego; he stood relaxed as his full height. A different hat completed the slicker look.

Smithy then sauntered past the foreign limousine, the driver sat with his radio tuned into Metro-wave, and Superman slipped past him unnoticed and into the dockside warehouse, where the man Superman presumed to be Reynolds had minutes before preceded him.

Crates and machinery littered the building, a pick-up truck and a line of cars bordered a neater workshop area on his left. Above this shop was a loft area; he made out an office, store room and a cloakroom. Superman's enhanced vision identified Reynolds and another much older white haired man were seated in conference. A third heavy set figure, sat quietly to one side; probably Reynolds bodyguard Superman decided. The other two men were smoking and discussing a contract; Reynolds spoke cryptically about the object.

"Hey! You lost fella. Need some directions, like turn around and get going for instance?" A big heavy set man emerged from behind a jacked up car, his dark coverall were grease stained, as were his thick hands. Stopping a few yards away the mechanic leant casually against a supporting pillar belonging to the staircase that ran up to the loft area.

"Name's Smith. People call me Smithy."

"Ok Smithy, good for you. Now why don't cha' get going." The mechanic held a wrench in one hand a tapped it slowly against another. "This ain't no place for gawking."

Superman pressed on. "Word is you're down a couple of guys."

"Really, Smithy? Is that so, well I don't know who you've been talking to - but do you see a 'help wanted' sign in the window? Because I sure don't. Take a hint bub, beat it."

Clark drew a knife from pocket. His throw was direct and with just enough force. It hit the supporting wood pillar just by guys ear.

"Hey... what's the idea?" The big man shouted, no longer leaning nonchalantly, instead he tensed and stood his ground, the wrench becoming a club in his hand.

"I can strip an engine down too. Fast."

The Mechanic raised his heavy tool. "I oughta'... You could have..."

"I could have done a lot of stuff; but missing isn't one of them." Superman smiled holding his hands open, palms up, as much to say I'm only messing with you.

The mechanic glanced back at the quivering blade, and then he stared uncertain at Smithy.

"Thing is Suggy told me this was professional outfit, but if you can't appreciate my particular talents, well... that can't be helped." Smithy wandered slowly over and reached out for his knife. The Mechanic laughed apparently unconcerned. "Finally getting the message are we chum?" The big man moved to one side, as if he meant to walk away before snapping around aiming his heavy wrench directly at Smithy's extended arm. Superman ever ready, twisted in instant, catching the mechanics hand in his.

"Yeah, I deserved that." Smithy said, appearing for appearance sake to struggle against his attacker; it was like some hand held high arm wrestling match. The burly mechanic tried to force the aptly disguised Superman back, but Smithy worked the moment, appearing to struggle with him; but he did not give ground. Instead with his free hand he reached across and pulled the knife free; slipping the blade back into his pocket.

Once the weapon was taken out of play the Mechanic sensing an impasse had been reached relaxed, and pulled free. "Okay buddy, so you're a tough guy, I get it. So come on how's y' know Suggy; how's he's never mentioned you's?"

"We hung out together back in the day, just got into town, looked him up last night, saw him as it happens not long before he and Nails got picked up by the Cops."

"Dunno buddy – as I said Suggy, he never mentioned you."

"Yeah? As I said, I just got into town."

"Where's you know Suggy;s from? New York?"

"Well sure I've been to New York, but Suggy and me, back in the day we're Chicago boys."

Superman could see the other man was satisfied with that answer.

"Harry George, the boys, they call me Hairy." He offered his hand. "Still can't say whether the Boss is hiring.

"Still you're in luck kinda – if you wanna call it lucky; because you get to ask him y'self, given that he's here.

"Though a word of warning it _really_ would have been much better if Suggy were here to vouch for you."

Superman shrugged. "He's kind of occupied ain't he? But that's life I guess."

"It will be for him." Hairy Harry said coldly. "Last chance to bail out bub, if the Boss don't like you he'll sooner kill you than look at you."

Superman didn't flinch.

"Straight up Smithy, that's the way it will be; your choice."

"I didn't get to be me without taking a few chances Harry. Lead on."

Reynolds looked happy enough when Harry wrapped on the door. He was shaking the other guy's hand in the office.

"Yeah, what's up Hairy?"

"Fella here, reckons he ran with Suggy." The Mechanic called through the door.

"One minute." Reynolds replied. He passed over a locked case to the second man. Superman's 'x-ray' vision could see that it contained thousands of dollars. Whatever transaction they had been discussing was now complete, and from what had been said between them, Superman knew the as yet unidentified object of the transaction was packed inside one of the crates currently sitting inside the warehouse below them.

Superman scanned the various crates a second time. His first reconnaissance had been looking for weapons, but the only metallic objects he had seen were ubiquitous machine parts. Now he considered narcotics, but again the other crates seemed to contain nothing untoward. Checking each wooden box he found that the only usual object, carefully contained and thoroughly well packaged was a statue in marble. Beautifully carved the female figurine was Greco-Roman in style; and although he recognised that much, Superman realised he wasn't sufficiently versed in art or archaeology to make any judgement as to it's true nature or value.

Could this transaction be simply be a straight forward purchase of a work of art – if so was such a statue worth a case load of money? Superman wondered this as Hairy Harry showed him inside Reynolds office.

The interior was well appointed, in stark contrast to the more rough and ready exterior, Reynolds kicked back on deep buttoned leather sofa. He drank bourbon from a lead glass crystal glass.

Harry stood outside, not crossing over into the carpeted room in his greasy overalls, quickly summarising his conversation with Smithy for Reynolds.

"He's good with a knife, and strong enough to hold his own." The Mechanic concluded.

"Why a knife Mr Smith?" Reynolds asked.

"Sometimes it pays to do thing's quietly."

Reynolds nodded. "That wasn't Suggy's way."

Superman smiled in character saying. "Yeah, well that was one of the reasons we haven't worked together for a while; he went his way, I went mine."

"But your way brought you to Metropolis?"

"Can't a man want a change a scene Boss?"

Reynolds drank down his liquor. "Okay Smithy, it's true - I am two men down; so I'll take a gamble on you; but I warn you I have ways of finding out about a man's true character, so don't disappoint me, because well, if you do that'll be the last thing you'll ever do. Are we clear?"

"Crystal clear Boss."

"Okay give Harry a hand downstairs.

"Harry you and Smithy load up the truck with Mr Ioannou's crate, y' know the one - and be careful. Both of you.

"Then Smithy I want you to take the truck and follow my car; consider this a trial run. Then when we're done with that, you and I can have another talk."

"Sure thing Boss." Smithy replied.

"Get to it boys." Reynolds dismissed them.

"You took that new face on kinda of quickly – didn't ya, if don't mind me saying Mr Reynolds?" Ioannou said, moments after the door closed behind Smithy.

Reynolds stood up, smiling confidentially at the older man. "Sure, and I know it – but the way I see it either this fella knows that dumbo Suggy or he really just knows too much, either way I want him close until I can establish which it is.

"Any way Poppa let me worry about the likes of Smithy, you go spend your money, and go find me some more of the same class of item; you have the list, and you know what is wanted."

Downstairs Harry tossed Smithy a pair overalls. "Here. No need to dirty your threads, take one of my spares – I got plenty."

"Thanks."

The big man coveralls fitted Superman's frame and together the two men lifted Ioannou's crate onto the back of the truck. Harry lashed the crate in place with sturdy ropes.

Superman climbed in. Reynolds, and Ioannou, parted company at the bottom of the stairs. They exited the Warehouse and climbed into their respective automobiles. The third man - Reynolds body guard joined Smithy in the pick-up truck.

"You know where we're going?" Smithy asked.

"Just follow the Bosses car, and you'll be right."

"You got a name?"

"Yeah."

Superman waited for a more forthcoming answer, it was apparent that wasn't going to happen. "Right. I see." He said.

"Nothing personal buddy, just it's early days yet. No point in getting pally until you've passed the test."

"Test?"

"You'll see soon enough." He replied pointing outside. "Look the Boss is on the move."

"Fine." Smithy said. Superman started the engine and followed the limousine back out towards the Metro Hills."

-'S'-

Lois abandoned her car just out of sight of the large wall that encircled the landscaped gardens of the estate. Reversing she backed away from the imposing gate house, the way forward was barred by an impressive display of sculptured ironwork. Pulling her vehicle off the road she slid in behind a denser clump of trees; it was enough to camouflage the roadster from the casual eye.

I can still see the car." Dolores told her.

"Yeah but you are looking for it. Someone who is just driving past, isn't going to be looking for a hidden car."

"You hope."

"Yes pretty much."

The main house sat on a elevated position that lifted it above the woodland that separated it from road.

"We better go forward on foot – use the trees for cover; that way we won't draw attention to our selves."

"In these heels?" Dolores asked.

Lois acknowledging the problem, opened the trunk of the car, it was full of bags, boxes, and clutter; she grabbed a pair of boots and some flat shoes.

"Here take whatever you want, you and I look a similar size." De Winters took the shoes. "How's your head?" Lois asked as she swapped over her footwear.

"Sore but I'll live."

"Okay lets make our up there and along the wall."

"Make like soldiers you mean?"

Lois looked at the actress and asked with a wry smile. "You know anything about soldiering sister?"

"Only what I've seen in the movies, but I can hold my own, I can ride and swim laps regularly so if we are going to hike through these woods let's get too it."

The two women skirted around the perimeter, and for a long while there was no obvious way through, until the came upon doorway, but this was secured; blocked by iron railed gate, fixed with a heavy chain and padlock.

Lois inspected it, her black leather gloves tainted by the heavy coat of rust.

"That hasn't been opened in long time." Dolores observed.

Lois tried the gate, more out of curiosity than anything. "That was a long shot." She said. Unsurprisingly it didn't move.

Through the railings they could just make out one end of the sprawling property, then cresting the rise between the raised gardens and the wall came two figures, they were some distance away, but the dogs with them immediately fixed their attention on the women and began to bark loudly, dashing down towards them.

The men shouted out, had they seen them?

Lois and Dolores had dived out of the way, but as they hid it became clear that at least one of them had been seen.

"Hey you! Stop!" The men bellowed over the raucous noise of their dogs.

Lois grabbed Dolores and bolted. "Come on!" She said.

The two women began laughing as they sprinted back towards Lois's car. Like naughty school girls caught playing a prank. They could hear loud rattling and louder curses coming from the direction of the rusted gate.

"Looks like they can't get that open." Dolores gasped, as they took a breather; it seemed the chase was over before it had really begun.

"Lucky for us." Lois replied. "You remember anything more?"

"No, and I'm feeling a lot better too, maybe it was just stress?"

Suddenly a couple of shots rang out, loud the sound of bullets striking against metal.

"They're shooting the lock off!" Lois exclaimed.

Sprinting harder Lane and De Winters ran once more, alarmingly the chase was very real again, and it had become more serious, this wasn't looking like an over reaction to a case of simple trespass, behind them they could hear the dogs baying as the hounds began their pursuit.

Lois leapt into the car, Dolores followed, a dog smacked against the closed door excitedly, its feet scraping the bodywork, Lois saw it's tooth filled snout slobber against the glass of her window. For the first time she regretted not having bought a tin top.

Gunning the engine she tore away sliding out onto the road, gunshots sounded out. Lois accelerated hard, dirt spewed into the air as she tore back down the woodland track.

The road passed a steep embankment, a cutting where a fast flowing river had worn it's way down from the higher ground.

Dolores shouted out a warning! Coming towards them in the middle of the track, showing no signs of slowing was a big black sedan. Lois dived into the left, the side of car scraping noisily against the shrubs along the road side, the big car side-swiped at her as it tore past catching the rear of the Ford as Lois squeezed past, sending her into a slide towards the opposite side of the road and perilously close to the steep, almost vertical gradient that ran to the river below.

Smithy recognised the women driving towards the truck immediately, Lois's canary yellow convertible was hard to miss, enhanced vision took away any doubt. Lane had corrected the skidding car, but she was now bearing down on the pick-up.

Reynolds enforcer pointed a finger at Lois. "Run that car off the road."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"You're kidding right?"

The other man drew a gun. "It's what Mr Reynolds wants." The Enforcer had a some sort of radio phone in his bag, it was nothing like Superman had ever seen before. He also knew that Reynolds had given that exact order – he had heard the exchange but he was now stalling for time.

Lois barrelled past him, her outside wheels perilously close to the edge and the lethal drop below.

Superman felt his companion attempt to wrest control of the steering wheel, to turn into Lois's auto, to bump it side ways off the edge. Superman however held the vehicle steady.

The other man growled. "Big mistake." He levelled the gun, but Lois was now safely past them. Superman swiftly pushed open the drivers door, in the same moment the gun went off, but as it did so, Superman dived out across the road and over the edge into the steep sided river valley.

The Enforcer lunged for the wheel, correcting the vehicle's direction before the truck followed Smithy to oblivion. Swearing loudly he slid over into the drivers seat and regained control. Coming to a stop, he got out, gun in hand. The yellow convertible was almost out of sight. Walking over to the edge of the ravine, he looked over the banking for any sign of the man he knew as Smithy, but Superman had vanished.

Angrily cursing some more he returned to the truck, and drove off towards the main house.

Lois laughed, as she left the other vehicles behind her in a cloud of dust. She felt exhilarated. "We showed them!"

Dolores said nothing, but convulsed, before bending over and groaning.

"Are you okay?" Lois asked, glancing down, whilst keeping up her speed.

"Yes, just keep going." De Winters mumbled.

"There is something really fishy going on here for sure." Lois commented; she was planning her next move when Dolores interrupted her thoughts.

"Stop the car, Lois, turn around. Go back to the house." Dolores pointed a tiny Derringer pistol at Lane.

"What are you doing? Are you nuts."

"Go back now Lois."

"What's got into you?"

"Lane I will shoot you; then take this car and drive it myself. The choice is yours, make it fast."

"You double crossing witch." Lois spat.

She jammed the brakes on, hoping to unsettle De Winters. Seconds later a fist connected with her face.

"Just drive Lane, I won't warn you again."

Lois rubbed her chin, then yanking the wheel around she accelerated back the way she had come.

Superman watched the truck make it's way up the drive to the house, the big limousine had pulled over and two men with dogs were speaking to Reynolds.

He could hear Lois automobile returning towards them, casting a surprised glance behind him he saw Dolores holding a gun on the reporter. This did not make sense, were they playing some sort of dangerous game, or had De Winters been a double agent all along. Uncertain but determined to discover the truth, Superman chose to bide his time.

The yellow Ford shot forwards through the open gate way, followed directly by the big Mercedes. High above the clouds Superman watched the vehicles process towards the palatial dwelling of the Ultra Humanite.


	26. Chapter 26

Lois stopped her car outside the pillars that framed the impressive frontage of the mansion. De Winters indicated that she should get out. A tall well dressed man waited beside the black limousine.

"Miss De Winters. What a surprise." Reynolds greeted the actress. He however aimed an automatic at Lois. "It appears Dolores I was misled. You are clearly alive."

"I had help from the Daily Star."

The enforcer nodded, looking directly at Lois. "And who are you young lady?"

"Go to hell."

Reynolds laughed. "Of course! You must be Lois Lane intrepid girl reporter; it is true Dolores – you two do look alike.

"You know Miss Lane." Reynolds continued. "I often read your articles, I must say it is a pleasure to meet another beauty."

"Zip it buster, I'm not impressed or flattered, somehow compliments lose their charm when they're delivered at the end of a gun."

Reynolds shook his head chuckling. "You know that was clever of you Miss Lane, reporting your colleagues death, letting me think De Winters had died too; you must also have friends at Metro-PD. That is interesting."

"I have friends in high places too." Lois countered.

"I hope so Miss Lane, in fact the Master is looking forward to meeting _him_ in particular." Reynolds said pointedly, then adding to De Winters. "Dolores I'm assuming you are back in action? Seeing you here tonight means that you are yourself again? I would hate to have to kill you twice."

"I am once again glad to serve the superior intelligence." De Winters replied.

Reynolds waved the gun. "Please ladies it's getting dark, let's get you girls inside."

Lois was angry at her own powerlessness, but besides Reynolds and De Winters there was a third armed man; the chauffeur, the odds were against her, and worsening by the minute.

"Perhaps you would you like to comment on why you people attempted to steal the Campbell Scott prototype?" Lois asked brazenly.

Reynolds seemed amused by her defiance. "Of course, a good reporter like you came here looking for a story; and I'm loathed to disappoint a lady, but I must."

"Really? I'm not surprised, I rather think you'd be getting used to disappointment by now."

Reynolds gestured for her to keep moving. "I'm _sure_ you'll soon come around to thinking our way."

Once inside the grand entrance hall Lois was struck by the magnificence of it all.

"Watch her." Reynolds directed his chauffeur. He left them briefly, walking into another room, and quiet uncomfortable minutes passed, before he returned.

"The Ultra Humanite wishes to meet you Miss Lane." Reynolds, gun in hand ushered, Lois into a huge library. Dolores pocketing her tiny Derringer followed them.

The ornate ceiling high above added to the sense theatre, but the seated figure that eventually greeted them in the dwindling daylight was less impressive.

"Ah Miss Lane!" The Ultra Humanite's hoarse whisper was amplified electrically.

Lois recognised the distinctive tone from her recent adventure in the Campbell Scott plane.

The frail man wheeled forward, the electric motors in his powered chair hummed.

"I am pleased that you have finally joined us, although it would have been much easier if you had cooperated and allowed my agent to fly you here."

Lois didn't share his happiness. "Along with the Fire Bird? I think I preferred seeing it explode."

"Never the less Miss Lane despite your adventure - you still find yourself here as my captive."

"You are unbelievable – you sit there admitting to murder and espionage, the theft of US Army Air Corps sponsored prototype. You are nothing but a traitor." Lois was defiant, but she could not help wondering what they intended to do with her.

"And you young lady are remarkable, you came seeking the truth, to find whoever was responsible for the audacious action at Pegasus Field, to expose them. Now you are here I see no reason to disappoint you – full disclosure, isn't that exactly what a good journalist desires?"

"I'm not a fool. You wouldn't admit to anything if you thought I'd live to put this story into print."

"You think I intend to kill you Miss Lane?"

"That would seem more than likely."

The Ultra Humanite laughed. "Why would I do that, when I can simply modify your mind, an attractive woman who is able to move in influential circles is always useful."

"Then Dolores wasn't lying, she is mesmerised."

"Mesmerism, or Hypnotism as some today prefer it. Neither word does justice to the process I use.

"Imagine Miss Lane if I were trying to describe the internal combustion engine to a cave man, how would I do that?"

The older man smiled "Perhaps I might say to him - this is a magic box with fire inside.

"So my explanation to you is this – the process by which I can control Miss De Winters and others, an act of advanced mesmerism."

The Ultra Humanite hand tapped across the table like structure, that rested over his encased lower body, one of the large book shelves swung inwards revealing a hidden recess. Walking forward from within a tall white figure emerged. Comfortably over six foot tall with a wax like sheen to it's polished stone like form, smooth in appearance without any obvious blemish, human in shape but softer and more uniform, naked without any indication of gender, stocky, thick and broad. A featureless face was bereft of eyes, ears, nose a mouth, the barest approximation of these senses were suggested.

Statuesque hands held a glowing blue sphere in front of the marble like torso. The globe was filled with blue and purple fire, bright colourful lightning danced chaotically within.

"Are impressed by my mechanical man, my Frankenstein's monster, my Golem?"

"What is it holding?"

"That is 'fire in my box' my dear. That is _advanced mesmerism_."

"I am not a savage." Lois stated.

"Very well Miss Lane. I shall endeavour to satisfy your curiosity. The globe is a conduit, a device to channel energy from a machine deep within the bowls of the earth.

"A machine that is both ancient and yet something from the furthest future; beyond what you can imagine."

"If your 'advanced mesmerism' is so amazing, "Lois scoffed, "how then did a woman like Dolores De Winters break free of your power?"

"Yes – that was an... interesting development, but as you found out once I discovered she was alive, and where she was, I was able to re-establish my authority over Miss De Winters."

"I serve the superior intelligence." Dolores acknowledged.

Lois frowned, the last thing she wanted was to lose her mind, her free will, death would be better than mindless slavery she thought.

"But consider this Miss Lane, when you have lived as long as I have, you accept no process however reliable is without a margin of error.

"The exception proves the rule.

"In the same way, your miraculous escape from my operative - from the exploding plane, is such an exception; another 'interesting development'.

"You see Miss Lane when you have lived as long as I have, you begin to relish the exceptional event; the factor you cannot calculate, that cannot be anticipated.

"It this exception that tests me – this most unexpected visitor that will prove my superior intellect.

"And I sense that he has finally come to me.

"Haven't you Superman?"

The bay window shattered, as a blue and red flash broke through, behind him the lights of Metropolis shone like gold.

Superman looked across at frail man, the fiery eyes of the wheel chair bound figure burn with both terrible hatred and sinister intelligence.

"And so Superman we meet at last."

Reynolds stepped forward firing his gun at the Man of Steel. Superman shrugged off the bullets, the next instant his fist connected with the henchmen's jaw, sending his attacker tumbling stunned to the floor.

Dolores leapt at him mindlessly, and Superman gently caught her. He swiftly applied pressure to a nerve cluster in her neck and without injury the Man of Tomorrow rendered the poor woman unconscious.

In the next instant Superman was beside Lois – putting himself between her and the Ultra Humanite's Golem-automaton.

The Man of Tomorrow's supernatural vision scanned the infernal machine man. Superman could only see a solid stone like mass, yet he had seen this statue move mimicking life. He studied the peculiar lightening that flashed within the globe of fire cradled in the Golem's hands; it was like nothing he had ever seen.

"You move at unparalleled speed Superman." The frail man observed. "How delicious, Mercury would be jealous of you!

"Of all the myths and legends of the first world, I never thought for one moment that Superman was the _one_ among them that was real!

Superman folded his arms. "I am not a myth, and I am not a god. As for you - your actions prove that you are agent of evil, and I'm glad you're giving me the opportunity to capture you."

The old man laughed once again. "You may not find that task as simple as it now appears.

"You see a man, crippled and aged. While you are young and vital; possessing great strength – but Superman you are actually pitting yourself against a mental giant of Hellenic age; a god."

Again the Man of Tommorrow found 'x-ray' vision would not penetrate the Ultra Humanite's machines; the powered chair was impervious to his gaze, the upper torso of the older man appeared thin almost stretched.

"Your empty boasts don't intimidate me." Superman countered. "Release Dolores from your spell, and I will consider not tearing this palace apart."

The Ultra Humanite laughed. "What a delightful choice of words. Perhaps you are not the pure brawn your bravado suggests, but brain as well."

"I promise you I will bring this house down unless you release her."

The hiss of a hidden mechanism from the other wall introduced second Golem-automaton, considerably larger than the first; appearing from the another hidden alcove the artifice walked towards Lois and Superman with a menacing swagger.

"I am able to defend my home. You might consider me a powerless, but alongside my workers." The long willowy fingers slowly pointed to the first Golem. "I also have soldiers." He gestured to the second more massive automaton.

"Superman you are mistaken if you think you can threaten me. I have prepared for this encounter. It was inevitable that we should clash."

Superman considered this.

"How did you know I was already here?"

"A being of your radiant power observing us, was like a beacon to me; I could taste your brilliance hovering outside my home, like a vengeful angel."

Superman frowned. "And You? Who are you, what manner of man betrays the people of America, betrays freedom and justice?"

"I am known as the Ultra Humanite – make of that as you will."

Superman was not impressed by either of these answers, and took up the implied challenge. "I have considered what such a title might mean.

"Ultra – to be above or beyond, the term human I think is self explanatory – and the suffix -ite; a follower, a descendent – and an inhabitant.

"You believe yourself to above men, beyond men, yet you follow and descend from them, you inhabit humanity without being part of it."

"Bravo Superman. Very few have ever come so close to fully grasping the meaning of my title.

"For your insight I will reward you with my given name.

"Just as yours was given to you; just as you are Superman, so am I Hephaestus the crippled god."

Lois recognised this name, and called out at him indignantly. "What do you mean you nut. You're talking of myths and legends – why do you call yourself after a Greek god?"

Superman touched her arm protectively, bringing her back, behind him, ever conscious that the two Golem automaton's were close by. He did not like that the Ultra Humanites machines were apparently impervious to his 'x-ray vision'. There were so many unknowns in this situation he felt had to be cautious.

The frail man laughed. "It appears the classical education you received when your father abandoned you at that school you hated so much, was not entirely wasted on you Miss Lane." Lois was both surprised and troubled to realise that he knew so much about her.

Superman stood defiant, picking up Lois's line of questioning. "Why do you talk in such riddles?

"How can a machine be both ancient and futuristic?"

"That is an excellent question from the Man of Tomorrow.

"Of course you wish me to explain my designs, you want to know how I am able to control and mesmerise, you think if you can find my machine and destroy it, then you will free those I have enslaved.

"Come Superman - do really you think I would just tell you these secrets?"

"Of course you should! And if you don't then I will simply tear this place apart until I find every last one of your infernal machines and I'll destroy them all."

"Superman wait – do not be hasty to vandalise that which you do not understand. Consider for a moment that we are not so different; yes you and I.

"That is absurd!" Lois shouted.

"Laugh if you must Miss Lane, but Superman the truth is this - if anyone else alive had asked me how an engine could be both futuristic and ancient, I would have laughed at them.

"I would not entertain giving away an answer to mortal man – but you are not like ordinary men – are you?

"Come Superman you are like me. We are different. We are brothers. We are different sides of the same coin; we are god's among men."

"You aren't making sense – we are not at all alike."

Lois was confused, why she wondered was Superman even listening to this madness? Why didn't he crush this madman, end this charade with his incredible strength and speed.

"Imagine the near future, perhaps a century from now, perhaps more. The exact date is lost in history."

Lois whispered. "Superman, this is nuts – how can a date that hasn't happened be lost in history?"

Hephaestus continued. "Earthmen will build a ship, the first of it's kind, designed to carry men and women, to travel across the vast emptiness that is outer space.

"Are you familiar with the reality of Space travel Superman – I somehow imagine you must be - do you know the work of Einstein?"

"I know of his theories, and I have wondered how space travel might be possible.

"I know that he argues it is impossible to travel faster than the speed light, and given the huge distances involved in outer space this means a voyage to the stars would take many decades, perhaps even hundreds of years."

"This will happen?" Lois asked incredulous.

"It has happened Miss Lane." Hephaestus answered. "In the future people from earth will finally travel to the stars by bending space itself, bending the immutable laws of physics; by travelling faster than light itself."

"Light has a speed?" Lois asked.

"Yes – you remember sound has a speed. Well light does too." Superman replied.

"You see Miss Lane a ship carrying colonists will leave this planet." Hephaestus explained. "A new Mayflower - a vessel filled with pilgrims destined for a new world; but just like a ship sailing turbulent and dangerous Atlantic, some chance event changes everything for these new founding fathers.

"Understand this great adventure I describe was once little more than legend to me – it was like Atlantis or the city of Troy is to you, but I am certain now that it happened; and that the star drive aboard this ship malfunctioned in an unique way.

"These colonists will find themselves catapulted into an uncharted region of space, far away from their intended destination.

"Lost an unimaginable distance from this world, but worse still, they discovered that their space ship had also travelled backwards through time – these colonists are lost in the distant past. The future becomes history!"

"That's absurd." Lois said.

"Is it so absurd Superman?" The older man asked. "Could it be that mankind can travel from a distant star to distant star, travel even through time and space?"

"Is that who you are, a traveller from another world?" Superman asked. "Are you telling me you are one of these colonists returned?"

The Ultra Humanite smiled. "I am but one of their many descendants. It however interests me that you accept my story."

Lois was surprised by all of this. Could Superman really consider this tall tale to be the truth. If it were the implications were incredible, and world changing.

Superman did not reveal how these allegations truly troubled him, given what little he knew about his own extraordinary origins – he wondered, did this old man know more than he was admitting, did he know about him, about his birth-world, about Kyrpton?

"Your amazing story is possible, given what I know, whether it is true; that I cannot say." Superman admitted.

Lois although stunned by these revelations asked her own question. "Why then if you are some sort of alien-future man, why do speak of Greek mythology, of gods, why claim the name of Hephaestus?"

The Ultra Humanite laughed. "Because that is who I am, for centuries I have dedicated myself to mastering the secrets of the universe, combining advance science and strange magical forces.

"So you see Miss Lane, today I remain true to myself. _I am_ Hephaestus - blacksmith to the gods, the master of invention; my organisation, my enterprises serve only this purpose – the pursuit of this higher knowledge.

"That is why I invite you Superman to join me, to assist me in my work; come discover the marvellous mysteries of our incredible universe."

"As incredible as your story is, I'm here to ensure justice is done." Superman declared. "I cannot join anyone who would enslave, steal and murder."

"Very well Superman, I expected as much – but I had to try." Hephaestus declared.

Suddenly the Warrior Golem struck at Superman. The Man of Tomorrow dived avoiding the artificial Goliath's clunking fists, and the Man of Steel threw a powerful counter punch.

Lois ducked out of harms way - there was sickening thud, as his Superman's fist hit the automaton solidly on the chest. The statuesque automaton shuddered at the impact, and then with unexpected agility the artificial man whipped around and hitting back at Superman caught him square on, sending the caped man crashing into the opposite wall, the house shook as the Man of Steel smashed into solid stone like a wrecking ball.

Lois now dived to the floor, as plaster dust fell around her as the house shook.

"Well that was a surprise." Superman commented rubbing his chin. He charged back towards the monster, again putting himself between Lois and the Ultra Humanite's creations.

The Man of Steel came out fighting and this time he didn't think to hold back, he drummed on the body of the Golem, it flayed trying to counter punch, but Superman ducked and weaved under its arms. His fists pounding the artificial creature - a blur of unrelenting hammer blows. In seconds cracks began appearing, sparks rose from it's shiny white skin, erupted from the fault lines opening up in it's torso, and then the automaton collapsed so much rocky clay on the ground.

Superman stared at the dusty pile of shattered stone. He expected some kind machinery, his initial scans of the creature had led him to assume that his 'x-ray' vision was being disrupted, but the Golem appeared to be only so much clay.

"Interesting." The frail man commented. "You possess such power, clearly controlling that; deciding how much force to apply must be quite difficult. You will prove more than an interesting diversion."

"Now what?" Superman asked him, winking at Lois. "That was fun?"

The chair hummed as the Ultra Humanite whirred backwards. "Oh I think I will test you another way."

Superman leapt forward, streaking towards the crippled man, determined this time to put an end the charade.

A bold blue purple bolt of electricity arched across from the first Golem's glowing bauble. Striking Superman it illuminated him, energy crackling around him, like writhing stinging snakes of power, his forward progress suddenly slowed until he hung in the air caught in a bright blue ball of flame. Head down Superman began to inch forward, the lights dimmed in the house, then the old man grimaced and tapping wildly on his controls he dialled up the power even more, still Superman edged forward.

"Curse you!" The Ultra Humanite growled, and again his finger tapped down.

Then Lois saw that the lights of Metropolis were dimming too.

Superman's back arched, he shook and fell to the floor before the Hephaestus's powered chair. At that instant the the blue light snapped out, Metropolis stayed dark; while slowly the lights of the grand house flickered back to life.

"Incredible." The frail man looked across at the globe from whence the blue flame had erupted, it was now a blackened husk, and smoke rose from the smouldering form of the Golem.

"Superman!" Lois gasped.

Emerging from the hidden alcove human acolytes of the Ultra Humanite came running to his aid.

"Bring Reynolds, and the women to me." Hephaestus indicated.

One of these enforcers pointed his automatic at Lois, forcing to her feet. She dusted herself down, holding back her tears and her rage. She turned to look past Reynolds, who with assistance from his friends was coming too; Dolores had however collapsed and was murmuring and moaning, but Superman lay motionless.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there staring at the fallen Man of Tomorrow.

"Lane I'd rather not exert myself, but if I have too, I'll hurt you." Reynolds stated, he leant heavily on a colleague, but he had a weapon again. "Bring De Winters this way."

Lois reached down and took hold of Dolores. "Come on get up." she told her.

"It wasn't me." Deedee gasped. "It wasn't me."

"So you say. Right now I don't care, just come on."

The actress managed to stand, Lois hooked her shoulder under the other woman's arm, and together they limped over to where the mechanical wheel chair bound man waited; beside him was the prone body of Superman. Lois knelt down next to her hero, and she was relieved beyond words to see that he was still alive.

"Yes Miss Lane – Superman lives, even though I channelled an electrical force into him great enough to have killed a legion of ordinary men."

Reynolds looked out of the broken window to Metropolis. "Sir the city, the lights have gone out."

Hephaestus nodded. "Superman's resistance to the conduit globe was so great he began to overtax even the Hyperion Core Generator – I was forced drew extra power from Metropolis to safeguard this installation. Thankfully this extra power was sufficient to overcome him, but as you can see doing this has overloaded the city's grid."

"Now Master you will be able to take from him his magic abilities." Reynolds said.

"Indeed that is my expectation."

As the Ultra Humanite was speaking with Reynolds Lois realised that they all were sinking. A large section of the library floor slid downwards, carrying them underground; an elevator of sorts moving deep into the vaulted cellar beneath the palatial house, and further into huge a concrete bunker, deep below the Metropolis Hills.

They continued to sink until the floor finally drew level with this vast basement, and then Hephaestus's powered chair slid forward.

"Reynolds you must ensure that house above is vacated – the unforeseeable consequence of subduing Superman has been to irreparably damage the conduit globe; my ability to influence our subjected operatives has been compromised."

"Understood Sir, will all the conditioned subjects revert as De Winters did?"

"It is hard to say, some will – perhaps even retain memories of their actions – of this place. Hence the need to close down our surface operation for the time being."

"And what of the others?"

"I expect around twenty percent of the individuals involved will enter a irrecoverable catatonic state."

"What am I to do with the women."

"Imprison them for now. De Winters may recover, she may not. Lane may yet prove useful, but until I have time to weave an new conduit unit I will be unable to reconfigure personality profiles."

"And what of Superman?"

Hephaestus smiled. "I shall study him immediately."

A Golem woker unit walked over towards the prone body of Superman, lifting the caped man from the floor.

Two human operatives followed the automaton. Reynolds told them to handcuff Lois and Dolores and take them away; before he returned to the surface on the strange elevator to attend to the evacuation of the house above.

Lois looked back at the unconscious Man of Steel. The lifeless artificial man followed it's creator's machine chair as the Ultra Humanite retreated deeper into his underground lair.

-'S'-

Superman lay on the stone table at the heart of the Ultra Humanite's laboratory. Above him hovered a fiery globe of pulsating blue and purple light, from which emerged crackling bolts of electrical energy which hissed snapped along his body.

Reynolds had rejoined his master, and was dressed in long sweeping robes, embroidered with strange runes and symbols. Hephaestus's from his chair could see projected a three dimensional image of Superman directly in front of him, that rotated and beside it appeared unintelligible symbols that were a language far removed from English. The Man of Tomorrow was on the bizarre scientists left, surrounded on each side by a automaton worker.

Beyond and all around them, littering this circular chamber, were strange and incredible devices. Some constructs appeared sleek and modern, but others were great house sized engines in brass and iron. Beside these were other devices that were entirely futuristic – some were small and dainty, chromed boxes, others silvery and lit up colourfully like a Christmas tree, and yet more wonderful items appeared to be crafted from fragile sparkling glass.

Then incongruously interspersed throughout these machines were other remarkable items, things that appeared to be more like decorations, tall Greco-Roman statues, figures from Egypt, golden boxes, ancient weapons, and armour; even roughly hewn stone monoliths. A collection of golden artefacts and bejewelled items that made the tomb of Tutankhamen appear poorly furnished.

The image of Superman that hovered beside Hephaestus shifted and change, revealing his humanity; his skeletal structure, internal organs, and musculature.

"Have you determined his origin Master?" Reynolds asked.

"I confess I am perplexed yet again by these results, he appears human internally and externally."

"Then he is in possession of magic?"

"He has no items of power Reynolds."

"What of suit, the cape, the belt the boots?"

"No. Although the costume is unique construction; it is made of incredibly resilient material; one of which I have never before encountered, it is technically very advanced, but it is not magical."

The Ultra Humanite dialled up the image from the control panel on his chair. "See Reynolds how the structure resembles cloth, but as we magnify it the complexity of its manufacture becomes clearer, this has been engineered at a sub microscopic level. It is in human terms indestructible, and yet when I apply Source Power I can damage it."

"Then the costume is not invulnerable to magic?"

"Correct my friend you understand at last. His clothing is purely technological in origin."

"Then in body - he possessed by some unseen force of magic?"

"That is the mystery; because the divination field detects no magical energy within him – it is if he pre-dates even the primeval God-Wave."

Reynolds baulked. "Then perhaps the Astro-Force was exorcised from him by the techo-magic of the conduit via the Hyperion Core Generator; and now he is completely powerless."

"His energy readings are high and rising, I fear he will soon regain consciousness; and his powers."

"How can that be?"

"I believe Reynolds that Superman is in fact a highly evolved being, that his incredibly advanced physiology is a result of changes engineered at subatomic level - while at the same time his human appearance has been deliberately retained."

"Superman has no magic."

"It is an incredible concept – but yes. He is simply a super-man."

Reynolds shook his head in disbelief. "You must contain him Master - perhaps with sufficient time we might unravel the mystery of his physiology."

The Ultra Humanites nodded, his willowy fingers danced over the controls. The ball of blue flame sparkled brightly.

"Reynolds monitor the Hyperion Core Generator, I have already taxed it's powers this evening, and I must do so again."

The tall man walked across to flat metallic table, the flat surface shimmered like water before him, the ripples settled and an image formed, one that portrayed the future-engine deep below them. Reynolds watched as the energy arced across the surface of the spinning reactor, as his Master summoned the ancient power once more.

The glowing ball of light above superman became swollen and translucent it swallowed him and the stone block on which he lay. Slowly the glowing sphere rose up, carrying within it Superman and the monolith, on which the Man of Tommorw lay. The stone block gradually became transparent, almost water like, absorbing the unconscious Superman, entrapping him inside the transparent crystal sarcophagus like a insect in amber.

The lightening ball flickered and the crystal tomb settled to the ground, within it Superman lay encased, frozen inside supernatural ice.

-'S'-

Lois held Deedee's head in her lap, De Winters seemed to be emerging from the confused state that had crippled her since the destruction of the conduit device.

"Dolores... Deedee... Come on sister, come back to me." Lois had mixed feelings, she had dismissed De Winters as a crook after meeting her at Matson's, then she had grudgingly trusted her after Clark had introduced her a second time, only to see her turn and betray that trust. Then Lois discovered that the poor woman was really a victim of mind control, a fate that would have befallen her, had Superman not intervened. She wondered about what had become of the Man of Steel.

Their cell was windowless, the light was sparse and artificial, they had been given water, but there was no comforts in the small room.

"Lois?" Deedee gasped finally.

"Yes. I'm here."

"I feel terrible." The young woman struggled to sit upright, she teetered and Lois helped to lean back sitting against the wall.

"Thanks. I'm still dizzy."

"Just dizzy?"

"Yeah, what happened, how did we get here?"

"You don't remember."

"No, last thing I can recall is being in the car we were getting away, although that didn't work out – did it?"

"No." Lois laughed, more in relief, she realised how thankful she was that De Winters was at least coherent, she had gathered from the Ultra Humanite that the outcome could have been far worse.

"Oh. Did we crash."

"Not exactly." Lois debated with herself what to reveal. "They got us, you were sort of out of it, and then Superman came, but the Ultra Humanite has captured him, and we're in a cell."

"Oh. That's really bad."

"Tell me about it."

"How did _he_ capture Superman? I mean he's so strong."

"The Ultra Humanite claims he's an alien from the future.

"That he has been on earth for a very long time; I think he was even suggesting since before ancient Greece."

"That's a really long time - right? Greece came before the Romans? My history isn't that great."

"Yes, that's how it went so a long time, before Christ. I don't know it's really unbelievable." Lois shook her head.

"So is it true?"

Lois reflected on what had happened. "Honestly I've never seen things like this; there are these robot men, and electrical ray machines that brainwash people and can stop Superman.

"Maybe on reflection it's the only thing that does explain it all. I don't know. Look I don't even like those Flash Gordon serials. So it's another language to me."

"Really? You don't like Flash Gordon? I kind of thought that Steve McBrodie looks a lot like Buster Crabb, maybe if he wore the tights and had a ray gun..."

"Shut up." Lois laughed. "Then again maybe a ray gun is what we need right now."

"Sorry I'm out of those."

"You know I thought the world was getting complicated when the British declared war on Germany."

"They have? I thought their guy said there was 'peace in our time'?"

"He did – last year, 'Peace for our time' it was - but the Nazi's have invaded Poland so it's war. Talyor's editorials have been warning this was going to happen for ages now. Don't you read the papers?" Lois asked before realising her mistake. "Oh. Sorry Deedee – I forgot that your head isn't straight yet. Guess that makes me the dumb one."

"I guess." Deedee began to cry, Lois put an arm around her, but she didn't know what to say.

"Oh Lois! It's coming back to me now, I'm remembering, oh my, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

-'S'-

"Master the Radiation Chamber is ready." Reynolds reported.

"Very good. Have the Golem place the subject inside."

Two of the Ultra Humanite's automatons carried the Man of Tomorrow's frozen form from the laboratory across to enclosed section of the bunker complex. There they lifted the crystal sarcophagus containing Superman; tipping this from horizontal to vertical, before sliding him into the smaller room. Heavy doors closed remotely sealing him away.

Hesphaetus secure in his lab studied the Man of Tomorrow's features viewing him on his three dimensional projection viewer.

Reynolds stood outside the Radiation Chamber, a projection of the Ultra Humanite directed him.

"Begin the exposure process, expose him to varying frequencies of radiation, we will begin with the naturally occuring background ranges."

In the laboratory Hephaestus began the construction of a new conduit for Hyperion Reactor energy, while his minions compiled the data coming from his experiment.

"Sir." Reynolds chimed. "My Data is reading a spike in the subjects metabolism when exposed to higher wave bands of magnetic radiation, beginning with white light and rising though ultraviolet to gamma levels."

"One moment, I am accessing your data." Hesphaetus returned to the radiation chamber using his remote viewer. He quickly read the incoming information.

"Stop!" He yelled, hammering at the controls he began isolating the power to that section, cutting it and locking it down.

Reynolds hit the master override and Radiation Chamber powered down. "What is the matter Master?"

"The data confirms that Superman can process the higher wave frequencies arising from ambient solar energy."

"Sir my controls are dead."

"I have isolated the section, Superman's power levels have not stabilised, his metabolism is accelerating."

"How... but if this section is locked down I am trapped. Master?"

Reynolds tried again "Master?" but to no avail the Ultra Humanite was not responding. The entire section was being isolated.

Wandering over to the chamber Reynolds stared through the view port into the steel box behind the heavy blast doors. As lights went out around him he could see that cracks were appearing throughout the crystal sarcophagus inside. Then the entire Section went dark.

Then with huge explosive force Superman breathed out, expanding his chest, flexing his muscles the Man of Tomorrow burst free, sending fragments flying, he staggered forward exhausted.

Reynolds fell back from the doors, and ran blindly feeling his way in the pitch blackness, only to finally discover that heavy steel doors had descended barring his path.

Superman grabbed hold of the steel blast doors that blocked his path, gritting his teeth, his fingers sank into the steel, and then pushing outwards to the left and right he drove the two halves apart, fractionally, metal ground against metal, as it warped and twisted, popping and yielding Superman burst through.

-'S'-

In the darkness Lois heard the grinding noise of the cell door being forced. Even outside there was only blackness.

"Lois, Dolores come with me."

"Is that..?"

"Yes it's me, it's Superman."

"I can't see anything." Dolores stated.

"Here take my hand, both of you." Superman pulled them towards him, wrapping his arm around their waist he carried them through the darkness."

Inside his laboratory the Ultra Humanite read the seismometer, the disturbances told him what his remote viewer could no longer confirm, Superman was on the move.

He began tapping on his controls, and his machine chair rolled across the lab, heading back to the central bunker.

Superman tore through another blast door, ripping open a gaping hole, this time revealing light from the main hall.

"Stay there." He gestured to Lois and Dolores. "Let me make sure things are safe out here."

Superman had already looked around the large central area, even before he had torn open the steel blast doors. He knew seven large warrior automatons stood between him,and the seated figure of the Ultra Humanite.

Leaping forward Superman hammered into the first of the artificial men, angrily smashing his fist through it's stone like body. Blows rained down on him from all sides. Superman grabbed a limb, taking the creatures wrist he flipped the huge manlike automaton over his head and shattered one Golem against another, damaging both. Around him the concrete floor cracked with hammer blows. Four of creatures piled into him, repeated blows driving him down. Superman kicked back driving two of the automatons back at their creator, smashing along the football pitch sized room, breaking against the far wall shaking bunkers massive foundations. Now he was held between the two remaining titans, who pulled at his arms dragging him in opposite directions.

Superman grimaced, a bead of sweat dribbled down his dusty face. Then he repelled from the Earth itself pulling the two creatures upwards hurtling them concrete roof. The two automatons tumbled the sixty feet back to the ground.

Superman lowered himself to the ground, around him lay broken and shattered stone, among the dust the broken artificial men flayed still trying to carry out their orders. He walked towards the Ultra Humanite.

"It's over." He said, looking down at the frail old man.

Lois cheered, and hugged Deedee. "He did it, seven of those giants, did you see that!"

Deedee laughed and danced with Lois.

Superman reached out to grab Hephaestus, but his hand passed through what was a complex and incredibly well executed projection.

The Ultra Humanite's artificial voice boomed out. "It's not going to be that easy Superman."

Before him steel doors opened, and there again was Hephaestus, but this chair was very different. A golden throne. On his lap a chrome helmet shone, his body was clad in chrome armour, without the motor chair's coverings his bizarre proportions were revealed, his long willowly limbs were now encased in the gleaming metal.

Hatless he revealed his bald and distorted head, the oversized cranium was supported by a neck brace still, this time rising from his armour.

He lifted up the helmet and placed it on his head, it clicked into place.

"I wanted you to know that this was me." Hephaestus said as he rose from the golden throne. He was tall, unnaturally so, and clad in this resplendent armour he appeared more like an insect than a man. He was over eight feet tall.

He stepped forward from the throne, and this highlighted the oddest thing of all, his feet seemed to bend in wrong direction.

Balanced on long legs he appeared to have an extra joint below each knee. Long thighs gave way to equally long calves, and these ended not with a foot, but in animal like ankle that bent forwards. This foot was like a limb in appearance. From this came the toes;which in turn appeared to be like a foot, but one which faced the wrong way.

Superman understood immediately that Hesphaetus was walking on what was anatomically a second pair of hands. This strange old man now stood on a second set of knuckles, his long fingers then naturally pointed backwards, and his thumbs pointed out like spurs.

Hesphaetus received from two Golem workers on his right and left, a long thin sword, and round shield.

As walked forward the armour crackled with blue fire, as it seemed to draw energy to itself from the Hyperion Reactor deep below.

"So Superman it comes to this."

"Indeed, but do you really think a sword will succeed where you advanced energy weapon failed."

"Oh yes I do. You see Superman I have determined that you are not _magical_ at all, oh yes you appear to be, and I thought you were perhaps a new god, maybe even a half breed like Hercules, but no - your powers are not a result of the God-Wave."

"You are not human." Superman stated.

"And you are? Actually Superman my ancestors were very human, no different from the men of women on earth today."

Hephaestus spun the sword skilfully. "I forged this magic sword at the height of my powers, in the golden age of the gods."

The armed creature approached the Man of Steel. His odd gait not without a certain delicacy, almost an animal grace. "It is unfortunate that I must now kill you."

Lois looked on bewildered, as the creature that was Hephaestus rose from his throne he appeared to be truly alien.

"He can't really hurt him?" Deedee asked.

"I've seen bullets bounce off him." Lois said. "I can't see how a sword can do anything."

Superman dived forward, Hephaestus slashed down, but superman's fist connected with the armour. The Ultra Humanite stumbled back, the blue energy sparking around him.

"First blood to me Superman."

The Man of Tomorrow's arm bled red, across the blue of his costume, quickly the wound clotted, his accelerated metabolism beginning to heal him.

"It would seem this will be an interesting battle. I have already established that you can be weakened, how much blood must you lose before you wounds stop knitting together, how many blows can you withstand?"

Hepheastus pointed his sword at Superman, blue fire erupted from the tip driving Superman back.

"You see for centuries I have sought to unite the power of the God-Wave and technology, now with my armour coupled to the Hyperion Generator, and sword and armour as conduit I can do exactly that."

Superman got up from where the blast of energy had driven him, not wanting to admit how much the energy blast had taken out of him.

"This God-Wave, what is this thing?" He spat.

Hephaestus laughed shooting flames at him, Superman dived sideways somersaulting bringing his foot down against Ultra Humanites shield, catching his sword arm before the blade could strike him again."

They struggled.

Superman looked into the eyes behind the mask. "I might bleed – but isn't it equally true that you Hyperion Generator could not by itself best me before? You drew power from Metropolis, I saw the city go dark?

"How long can you sustain this fight?"

"Long enough!" Hephastus pushed back with his shield. Superman lifted him into the air. Suddenly blue flame erupted around him hammering superman into the opposite wall.

"You will not slam me into the roof, as you did my Golem." Hephaestus spat.

Superman picked himself up from the floor, the imprint of his body could be seen in the concrete of the wall. He was winded by the seconded intense energy blast, but he struggled up right.

"The God-Wave Superman was an inexplicable and incredible event, a wave of power that changed the universe; birthing gods, people of great power.

"I was one of many travellers; drawn from many worlds and many races - there were scientists, researchers, warriors aboard the ship which I constructed.

"It was a grand mission to the stars; a voyage of discovery.

"But then we - like our ancestors from whom we had evolved – we had our own accident while travelling in hyper space."

Superman frowned, was the glow surrounding Hephaestus's armour reduced?

"Your ancestors? – The colonists from earth? Their accident was the one that threw them from our future backwards through time?"

"Yes it was. And because our space ship was in hyper-space when the God-Wave struck it's effect upon us was magnified."

Superman saw the lightening around the armour crackle and grow brighter.

"Our space ship was badly damaged and failing, we were marooned in an uncharted corner of the galaxy, the backwaters of space far from the galactic centre – limping from star to star, searching for habitable world, we came here to Earth.

"Imagine our surprise when we began to realise that this green blue planet, was _our_ mythical Eden, the long lost legendary place of genesis, where humanity first arose.

"Imagine our greater surprise when the benefits of the God-Wave began to manifest itself. The magical power was divine!"

Hepheastus leapt at Superman his sword crackling with energy. Superman saw his leap coming and he was prepared, understanding that the Ultra Humanite had been biding his time, talking while the Hyperion Generator charged his armour once more; but the Man of Tomorrow had also used this time to recover his strength to ready himself for the battle.

The Ultra Humanite brought his sword down in sweeping killing arc, Superman speedily side stepped the blow diving left, the sword sliced magically through the concrete and steel structure of the bunker, like a hot knife through butter, the force of his blow carried the older man around to his right. Superman smashed his fists into the small of the Hephastus back sending him careering along the ground, blue fire spitting sparks as he slid against the concrete, but with practised grace the old warrior span around on the ground and sprung to his feet.

"We saw the ancient peoples of earth developing agriculture, civilisation, we watched the rise of the first empires." he spat.

"And you took the names of their gods, using your new found powers you became like gods to them. What conceit!" Superman drove at great speed towards the fallen Hephaestus, determined not to give the Ultra Humanite time to recharge his powers, grabbing his sword arm he drove it into the concrete wall.

Hephaestus struggled his arm pinned, Superman began smashing his fists into the shining armour, which began to deform and crackle loudly as the energy dissipated from the Ultra Humanite's metal form. The old man smashed his shield into superman's face. Summoning the power of his Hyperion Generator to force Superman back.

The Man of Tomorrow fell heavily. "My shield too was forged at the height of my powers, it's magical properties make it indestructible."

Superman wiped the blood from his face, he was dazed. The crash of Hephaestus releasing his arm and sword from the concrete and steel warned him, he sprang up, but too late, he felt the sword cut into his side deeply.

They crackled together, as the blue fire of Hephaestus angry magic flashed. Superman wrapped his legs around the body of his enemy, and grabbed and wrestled the sword arm, with his free had he ripped at the helmet covering the Ultra Humanite's face.

The struggled, he felt the heavy shield smashing at his back, the crackling blue energy fizzed and exploded around him. "You are hurt Superman, soon you will be dead, and the world will be mine once more; and first I will take back De Winters, and then I will be Lois Lane's Master!

In pain, in anger, and in desperation, Superman's rage burned, he stared at the Ultra Humanites gleeful face through the metal of his magical armour. His concentrated rage seemed to burn, literally he could see red. Fire erupted from his eyes, red fire that engulfed the armour of his enemy, that eclipsed the blue fire of the Hyperion Generator, then there was no fire at all.

The Ultra Humanites helmet snapped clear from Hephaestus face, Superman felt the fireless armour deforming in his hand.

"Enough!" Hephaestus spat. "I yield."

Superman pulled the sword free from his enemies hand, sending it hurtling deep into the concrete, the shield followed.

Ultra Humanite lay motionless his breathing laboured.

Superman held his side, the blood flow easing, but the pain was terrible. He was stunned by the fire that had erupted from his eyes.

He stumbled forward. "Are you badly injured?" He asked his fallen foe.

Hephaestus laughed weakly. "You have broken me, without my intact armour, without a link to the Hyperion Generator, I am crippled on the surface of Earth.

"My race evolved deep in space to live in zero gravity; we were were engineers, builders of Star Ships, but that was long ago now, so long ago..." The old man began to cough weakly.

Lois ran over to Superman. "You are wounded!"

"I'm healing."

"Is he dead?" De Winters asked, pointing at the Ultra Humanite.

"He's unable to move, earth's gravity is too strong for him, but he lives."

"But listen he's started laughing." Lois said. "What's he finding funny?"

"Wait, I can hear something." Superman began scanning the earth, locating deep within the rock the hidden Hyperion Generator, still powering up, still creating energy, but with no one to tell it to stop - with no conduit to release the incredible forces, they were just building unchecked.

"Lois, Deedee you have to get out of here, I think there is going to be a terrific explosion."

"Of course, but not without you." Lois propped Superman up. "Help me Deedee!"

The two women helped the wounded Man of Tomorrow towards the large platform elevator.

"Deedee looked at the controls, seeing the panel of lights, she remembered from her past as a mind slave how the system worked. She hit a switch and span a dial, the huge device sank quickly from above, Dolores had clearly dialled up its speed setting. Superman took hold of them both. "Send it back up!" he said to Deedee.

Without hesitation she reversed the platform's direction. Superman leaped into the air, landing on the elevator floor, he grimaced with pain.

"Superman don't." Lois gasped.

Superman leapt into the air again, grunting through clenched teeth. Flying up into the empty library of the grand house above, he turned in the air allowing his cape to wrap around the two women, before smashing through the window out into the open sky once more. Pushing he flew higher and higher, then with deep rumble the house collapsed as the ground vibrated and the debris sunk into shallow crater that formed as the deep below the Hyperion Generator exploded destroying everything that was left beneath the ground.


	27. Chapter 27

The Man of Tomorrow landed on the roof of the Daily Star building. Metropolis Water and Power had repaired the blown the circuits and the cities lights were kicking back in as the gird came live.

The Planet had its own back up generator so they could run the presses come what may, as had many of the other important buildings throughout the city; hospitals, civic institutions and services. Superman trusted the power outage had been more inconvenient to the city than dangerous.

He released Lois and Dolores.

"Superman will you be all right?" Lane asked, she reached out and touched his bloody side.

"Sorry I seemed to have messed up your suit Lois." He replied noting the red stain on her clothing.

"Don't be silly. I'm not worried about that!"

"I'm healing. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"What about Clark?" Dolores asked. "He must be frantic?"

"I'm sure Mr Kent will be worried about you both. It would be advisable to call him and put his mind at rest." Superman replied. "Lois.

"I'd advise you not print the little episode."

"What? This is pure gold?"

Superman turned to leave them, but said. "Yes, but I'm asking this as a personal favour to me, at least discuss it with Kent first, he's a down to earth sort of fella."

"The public has a right to know the truth Superman."

"True Lois, and normally I'd agree with you, but the Ultra Humanite was connected to foreign powers, and organised crime, if you publish in full you will warn these people that I'm coming after them.

"I'd rather that not happen."

"Oh. Well that is a good point. I'll carefully consider what I include in my story, that much I can promise Superman, I appreciate what you are saying, besides if I do this you will owe me one."

"I guess I will Lois - I trust you will do the right thing.

"Good bye Ladies."

With these final words Superman flashed sky ward.

Dashing across Metropolis Superman entered the up town apartment his uncle had provided; there Clark Kent answered the phone.

"Lois!

"That's wonderful that you are both okay, I've been so worried, I coming right over."

A cab drive across town later, and Clark Kent entered the News Room of the Daily Star.

The hubbub in the middle of the big open floor was centred on Lois and Dolores, refereeing the goings on was an animated Taylor making himself seen and heard through the clouds of cigarette smoke.

Clark wandered across. Lois was in the middle of her explanation, she was holding certain things back, but she could resist talking about Superman's incredible heroics.

"Lois," Taylor held up a finger, "you realise about half of what you are saying isn't printable. It's like I keep telling you people; who is going to believe the truth, when the the truth is stranger than fiction?"

"Sure Chief. What can I say – most of the evidence is now buried under tons of rock and the remains of a huge collapsed house, I can't see anyone digging it out in a hurry."

"Must have been a hell of an explosion. I remember in France the Brits brought miners into dig under the German positions, 1917; battle of Messines it was, d-dubs they called them, killed ten thousand men, and took out most of the town, there were a bunch of tunnels mind you."

"Whatever exploded up there, was underneath the bunker, and that was deep underground itself – make me wonder what kind of generator it was."

"Gosh Lois it sounds like you've had a real adventure,and you Dolores, I mean are you all right Miss De Winters?"

"It's still Deedee Clark, and sure I'm fine."

"Great Kent, you can interview Deedee, get her side of things." Taylor instructed. " I'm going to help Lane work a printable story, we can piece it all together for a front page later on."

"Okay Chief,... but are you really going to with a Superman headline again?"

"Yeah I'm going to have to give him some lineage. Why Kent you feeling like Lois is getting the jump on you with this guy?

"Because to be honest I think she is more his type – don't you?"

"Sure... Chief, it's just that..."

"Kent!" Curly Lombard chortled. "You son of a weasel – my hangover is all your fault, playing dead and all!"

The Star's sports reporter began to dance and weave like a boxer, teasing Clark with dummy punches.

Clark dodged him. "Sorry Steve, didn't mean to upset anyone."

Laughing Lombard connected with Kent's gut.

Clark fell over in agony. He grabbed his side, thinking, please don't open up, please don't bleed again.

"Hey I hardly touched him, well okay maybe I did mean to wind him a little; but he did let me think he was dead."

"Clark!" Dolores exclaimed kneeling down. "Are you all right?"

"Oh Kent." Lois sighed. She walked over to Lombard, who stood hands held out apologetically laughing. Lane could smell the booze on his breath.

"Hey Curly! Nothing like hair of the dog to fix a hangover?"

"You're not wrong hot stuff."

She smiled, before kneeing hard in the groin.

"Curly you deserved that." Taylor snapped. "I knew Kent was fine, which is all the matters, and consider yourself warned, if I see you drunk during the day again I'll fire you."

Clark saw Lombard huddled in a heap on the floor too, gasping curses. "I'm good Deedee. Just winded, he caught me by surprise that's all."

"Are you sure? That's what did it for Houdini you know."

"I'm fine Deedee." Clark said holding his side as he got up.

"Say why don't we go out for a late breakfast?" Dolores asked. "I don't like the atmosphere here much any way."

"Pardon..."

"I'm hungry Clark – you can grill me while I eat, I've nothing to hide."

Clark sat on a near by desk, he smiled. "Sure thing, do you know a good diner?"

"You mean one with a corner booth?" Deedee laughed.

"Yeah something like that."

Deedee took Clark's arm.

"Takes all sorts I guess." Said Taylor.

"What do mean Chief?" Lois asked.

"Lois, I might have been out of circulation for a few years – God bless my darling wife, but I can still recognise a pick up when I see one."

"Who Kent? He's just a big teddy bear, no teeth and claws with him Chief."

"Not Kent Lois. Deedee... I know, I know - who'd have thought it." Taylor laughed. "Certainly not by looking at him, whatever Kent's got he's keeping it hidden."

Lois stood quietly and watched Kent leave with the actress, as the lift doors closed a frown crossed her face.

-'S'-

"Mr Luthor how are you feeling today?" The young man was seated at table, he wore hospital whites, his gaunt face looked washed out, and the white on white puritan antiseptic room looked cold and claustrophobic.

"Fine thank you Doctor. I was wondering when I could get back to work?" The older man sat opposite, he consulted a file of notes.

The medic adjusted his glasses. "We've been over this already, you are still too poorly young man, and you must concentrate on getting well."

Lex Luthor frowned. He ran his fingers through his hair, he found these came away covered in loose red strands. He looked at his hand appalled.

"Alopecia is not unknown in situations where individuals have experienced great stress. You do remember our discussion about your Alopecia – don't you?"

Lex looked back at him wide eyed, then back at the strands of hair in his hand.

"I'm losing my hair?"

"Still having issues with your memory I take it?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I must be, I don't remember things very clearly; I'm losing my hair. I don't remember!"

"Don't trouble yourself, we're confident the memory loss will not be permanent, it's not a uncommon side effect of Electro-convulsive therapy."

"My planes are gone aren't they?"

The Doctor paused in though touching his large moustache. "Now Mr Luthor, Cambell Scott are very concerned for your welfare, that's why you are here. This clinic is not only the finest in Metropolis, but the most progressive in America.

"I perhaps need to remind you that I have studied under Dr Muller in Switzerland and of course Dr Cerletti in Italy."

Luthor became agitated. "You fried my brain!" He spat.

Guards standing by the door to the consultation room walked forward.

"Now Lex my boy – please don't over excite yourself. Controlling these emotional outbursts will go a long way to persuading everyone that you are more yourself."

The Doctor scribbled in the open file.

"No more straight jackets. No more padded cells." Luthor stated. "I am a genius, I demand you respect my intelligence."

"Your intelligence is not in question, your mental health however remains precarious.

"Genius and madness are closely related. I hope you can appreciate that our greatest concern is your towering intellect."

Lex Luthor's hands made fists under the table.

"This is _his_ doing. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for _him_."

The older man stood. "I think that is all for today, perhaps we can talk again tomorrow.

"Good day Mr Luthor."

"Doctor?"

"Yes my boy?"

"Please help me. When will I get out of this place."  
"Oh I'm sure it will be soon."

"Promise me that, Doctor. I need to work Doctor Reynolds."

Reynolds looked at him and smiled. "I Promise. Mr Luthor, you will be back to work soon as medically possible."

-'S'-

Back at Clark Kent's modest apartment Superman is able to make time to inspect his damaged costume; using his enhanced vision the Man of Tomorrow studies the cuts left by Hephaestus's magical sword in microscopic detail.

This relic was important to him. The suit and it's strange S shaped crest was the only tangible link he had to the mysterious Krypton and his long dead birth parents Jor-El and Lara, and the culture of his birth world. As a farmers son he was naturally close to the Earth - the natural world; he was proud to be an American, an immigrant, and a Kent, but he was also wondered about the nature of the world he come from; his lost history and heritage.

Superman understood from his own research that this Kryptonian fabric was functionally indestructible; and as such it was impossible to stitch. A needle, even one wielded using his super strength was not robust enough to pierce the highly resilient material of his costume, and even if it were possible for him to penetrate the super dense structure, he considered perhaps a diamond tipped awl might achieve what steel alone could not, this would still not solve the more immediate problem. No current thread, no earthly material, fabric and glue or otherwise, would possess the same invulnerability as the alien cloth around it. So something like a bullet, or extreme heat, or an acid, would surely open up the cuts in the fabric of the costume once again.

Superman however was not a man who gave up easily, and he continued to closely inspect the structure of the Kyrptonian clothing, hoping to decipher it's secrets.

As he did so he noticed at the microscopic level that the cut edge of the fabric appeared to vibrate as he peered at it; this intrigued him greatly.

The Man of Tomorrow concentrated further, and in this contemplative and reflective state, he became aware of his autonomous biological functions. First his steady breathing, and then as he used his vision powers to inspect the fabric he concentrated on how his eyes were radiating energy in a very controlled way.

Superman just like any one, didn't think consciously about how to see far, or how to see near.

The Man of Tomorrow's unique enhanced senses worked the same way; Superman for instance did not need to consciously think how to see through objects, it was for him just another matter of focus, of wanting to do it, and this was something that Clark had always been able to do for as long as he could remember.

Yet it was in this moment of meditative reflection; when thinking about how to repair this piece of his Kyrptonian heritage, that Superman began to more fully appreciate how his vision powers worked.

Superman understood that his eyes both received and emitted light radiation. This enabled him among other things to see through objects and see in pitch black conditions. The young Clark Kent had reasoned this. He had read extensively about human biology, borrowing from the library of books and journals collected by Dr Lang. Clark had determined that he must possess cellular artefacts for both reception and projection; sub-cellular sized organelles within his eyes working like tiny light radiation emitters; emitting light invisible to normal human eyes, but not to him, these were wavelengths that he could see.

Superman remembered how in desperate rage in battle, he had tuned the invisible radiation he could emit harmlessly from his eyes into a harmful visible beam of hot burning light - a vicious weapon.

Concentrating on this ability further, he found he could deliver a much less intense beam, warming a point on the palm of his hand. Then Superman began to practise this; just as he had first done as boy, when Clark had begun to look ever more closely at the wonders the minuscule world of insects and invertebrates.

Superman stared closer still, his enhanced vision honed in tighter, this was something he had learned and practised in adolescence, focusing until he could see the very structure of his skin. Superman concentrated, and with an act of will heated up and destroyed a singular individual cell of his epidermis.

His imagination leapt with the possibilities.

Turning to his damaged suit he applied heat to the tear, and the slight vibration that he had noticed earlier amplified in intensity, and as he gazed at the suit the temperature rose along the fault line. Before his eyes the energised material began to knit and weld together as he brought the cut edges in contact one with the other, under the hot gaze of his heat vision.

Moments later the first cut to the suit was invisibly mended. The second larger hole took a little longer to weld back together, but it too quickly vanished.

Superman concluded that the suit had been designed to react to his new found power, this 'heat vision', and that the material was engineered so that this ability could be used to repair and alter the fabric.

He was stunned.

Superman stood up, his hands formed fists. He needed space to think.

Moments later the Man of Tomorrow streaked across the night sky, leaving the golden glow of Metropolis by night behind him, he was red and blue lightening that flashed from mountains to sky, hurtling in the direction of Maryland.

Jonathan and Martha Kent had taken on the house that had once been home to Jonathan's late uncle and aunt. It was a modest place, a good deal smaller than the farmstead back in Kansas, just nestling on the edge of another small town, but this time in the state of Maryland. Originally this Kent farm had been just a modest small holding, but from humble beginnings a bigger more successful family enterprise had been built.

Clark relaxed in the front porch with his father, they could see his cousin's dairy unit in the distance, the large modern house and buildings were separated from them by wide open pasture land.

It was like old times, Clark reflected, sat here with his Pa; the older man's pipe tobacco a familiar aroma, mixed with that of hot coffee, and the smell of his Mom's baking. Clark brought his father up to date.

Jonathan considered his son's account of his adventures. "This Heph' fella; you're telling me he was an alien?"

"I don't doubt it, he wasn't human – at least not really, not any more."

"You say he was bred to live in space?"

"Yes tall and thin; and with not one, but two pairs of hands. Hands instead of feet! – Pa it's like I told you.

"Hepheastus explanation was that men from the future will accidentally travel back time.

"Not just a few hundreds of years, but hundreds of thousands years, maybe even longer!

"That their descendants have had all that time to evolve into different alien races.

"And sure - Hephaestus was just one of those new kinds of men."

"You believe that son?"

"I could see how different he was, I mean the whole hand for feet thing for starters – and yet internally he was still very much the same; heart and lungs, and so on."

"Like you?"

"I wondered that too Pa, I don't know. I think now I'm more different inside, that is when you look really really close.

"But yes I believe Hepheastus was related to humans – to men from Earth. In a way that's why I am here.

"I guess I wanted to talk this stuff over with you and mom, because you are the only people who know about who I really am."

"I don't know, evolution is something I don't pretend to understand, but breeding stock I do know, look at our dog son, she's bred to herd cattle and sheep.

"But once upon a time her ancestor was a wolf, and once those cattle out there in the field they were more like the longhorn or the buffalo.

"Maybe this Heph fella was bred to look like that. Maybe you were bred to do the things you do but still look like you do.

"Maybe there are lots of races of people - some looking as different as can be, others not so much, all out there in outer space.

"But son it's not the colour of your skin, or whether you look like me or even Bess here." Jonathan patted the dog. "It's how you act that matters.

"Bess here could pass for a wolf on a dark night, but she wouldn't worry a chicken, but remember that poodle dog that old Mrs Davis had?"

"Sure Pa that was meanest critter I've ever known."

"Well it sure didn't look like a wolf, looked like some silly stuffed toy at times - but we both know it was far more trouble than ole Bess ever will be."

"I understand Pa, it's being humane that counts."

"Sure son, because killing, murdering each other, now that's inhumane, but it sure isn't inhuman, sometimes I think it's the most human thing there is."

"You mean the war in Europe?"

"Yes son America doesn't need it, certainly we don't want it."

"My Editor thinks we should stand up to the Nazi's."

"Let Europe sort it's own problems out Clark, we've enough of our own, without more American boys dying again in France."

Clark knew his father was remembering his dead brother, Tom.

"Pa I was thinking about the space ship."

Jonathan looked at his pipe, and worked the tobacco. "Okay son what do you mean?"

"The way I was able to repair my costume, I mean it brought home to me how much my birth parents must have thought seriously about what I'd need before sending me into space."

"I'm sure they did Clark, and your Mom and I are glad they were able to save you, you've been nothing but a blessing to us.

"And I really believe son you were far from abandoned like a baby on a stranger's door step.

"Perhaps they didn't know it would be me and your mom, who'd find you, but that advanced recording; that moving picture we saw, that was a lot more than just some note pinned to you saying look after this child. Clark that spaceship - it was like it was smart and could really talk to us.

"And that funny costume you've taken to wearing – the one we found you with; that wasn't an accident either."

Clark nodded he could feel the alien suit even now below his street clothes.

"Pa you are right about that - it's more than a one size fits all costume, it's a highly engineered and flexible device; I think the suit was designed to react to my powers."

Clark briefly explained how he was able to repair the damage to it; saying.

"I've been thinking about this new heat vision power I have, I mean if this power energised the material in my suit to repair itself, what would happen if I used my heat vision on the space craft that had brought me to Earth."

"You never were able to see into the ship – what makes you think this new power will make a difference?"

"I don't know; maybe it's because of how you said it seemed to lose power and fall over, back when you first found me.

"It got me thinking. What if, say with suit, that I'm actually acting like a of kind battery, enabling the cut material to weld itself together, maybe that's what makes the suit so tough – maybe it reacts to me?"

"Could be son, if Jor-El was smart enough to build a ship to get you here, who knows what other amazing things he had at his disposal."

"True Pa, and the costume, you know that's just clothing! I'm guessing if that's just an everyday suit from Krypton - what would my new power do to something as amazing as a space ship?"

"That's a big question son, maybe nothing, maybe everything - we just don't know Clark, until, that is, you go out and try.

"But I'm sure you know that already."

Clark nodded.

"So, if this is about your mom and I – about how we feel; then I'm confident I speak for the both us when I say your happiness is all that matter to us.

"As long as discovering things about your past does make you happy, then that's what we want for you.

"But son remember no family is without it's tragedies and things that shame us; there are bad eggs among the Kent's back in the day, and I doubt your birth family will be any different."

Clark stood and hugged his father. "Thanks dad, after dinner I'm going to go over and see Alfie back on the farm."

His father nodded. "Okay Clark – it's good to have you here. I hope this works out for you – I really do."

-'S'-

"Where's Kent?" Taylor barked.

"Out of town Chief." Jimmy Oslen replied.

"You said he could take a couple days – he's gone to see his mother." Lois reminded him, as she walked past. "Here's my story on that extortion racket."

She handed over her typed written sheets. "If you want I'll cover whatever you thought you needed Clark for."

Taylor laughed. "A science piece, something about a new comet?"

"I'm not dumb chief. If it's worth covering I can get it." Lois replied.

"Yes – that you would, but you are too good to waste on covering filler pieces. Besides from what this letter says, from this Professor Winton, then this.. meteorite has been travelling this way for something like the twenty years, so I think it can wait until Kent gets back.

"Actually I want you any way.

"And you Oslen.

"I want you to go out and cover the 'America First' Rally over at Covenant Circle Gardens Auditorium."

"Chief!"

"Now Lois you know full well Charles Lindbergh will be speaking, so it's going to be a big deal."

Lois pulled a face.

"Look I know how you feel about the isolationist politics, but we have a duty to report the news in a balanced and unbiased fashion – in other words leave the editorial slant to me."

"Then send Mickey or Johns, they're both good for politics – I'm still trying to get leads on this Reynolds character; his connections. I want to get a follow up on the Metropolis Hills Mansion Disaster headline."

"Oslen get me a coffee son."

Taylor indicated to Lois to follow back into his office.

"Lane it's like this, I've had a word from a friend in the know that Fifth Columnists mean to – even perhaps have - infiltrated the America First chapter in Metropolis."

"I see, that's a different story all together."

"So sure look out for Oslen, get him to take some shots of the speakers, and the crowds, but you - keep your nose clean, and eyes and ears open for any thing that might lead to these infiltrators; exposing fascist sympathisers will go a long way to reminding people that the Nazi's are a real threat, even here in Metropolis."

-'S'-

Superman returned from Kansas. Hurtling back to the east coast he skirted the outskirts of Metropolis, crossing high above the hills that lay beyond the city's bounds. He dived towards the shallow rubble filled crater that had been the Ultra Humanites mansion, his enhanced vision piercing the earth.

Scanning the area he again searched for any remains of the secret underground complex, but there no sign anything had survived.

Rather Superman could see a huge chamber where the surrounding strata had been cauterised by intense heat, fracture lines extended through the surrounding rock. Above this fissure the grand house had collapsed shattered into its own extensive vaulted cellars.

Superman remained convinced his first assessment had been correct; nothing could have survived such an explosion.

As he flew onwards he continued to enjoy testing the limits of his new found ability to defy gravity and as he soared Superman considered the strange events that had demonstrated his invulnerability was not absolute, but relative. He considered the mysterious and manipulative Ultra Humanite's claims; was he really the mythological Hepheastus. This bizarre history, and the incredible possibility that a variety of different races of men now populated the stars fascinated him.

Above all was his plans to investigate the strange craft which had carried him from Krypton to Earth.

Something else played on his thoughts, taking Deedee to his Uncle's had been a necessary evil, he knew that his Mother's sister and her husband had become estranged from Martha, Jonathan Kent in recent years, but finding himself forced to rely on family in a time of need continued to trouble his thoughts.

His Uncle had been right, being a reporter was going to expose him to danger, being Superman was going to do that in spades.

The caped man swooped across open country and climbed above the high and remote Mountain range above the Metropolis Hills. Wild and isolated these rocky peaks represented an opportunity.

As he studied them an idea began to form, he could see in his minds eye a illustrations from a past issue of National Geographic, images of a hidden citadel carved into a rocky gorge in a far away land; Petra in the Kingdom of Jordon. This amazing place had remained hidden for centuries; inspired by this memory he had formed a plan. One which would answer these different needs.

Superman required a safe house, not only a place where he could have brought Deedee, or someone like her in the future; but also a place where he could investigate his own abilities and origins in secrecy.

This needed to be somewhere that was not only secret, but isolated; that was unconnected to Clark Kent, to his family, friends and place of work.

He needed a secret citadel.

Analysing the rock and the landscape below Superman determined suitable locations – before settling on one clear winner. A shear cliff face many hundreds of feet high, this hard granite edifice towered above the already lofty landscape.

Satisfied this was ideal Superman began to plan in detail; forming a design in his minds eye.

Then streaking into action Superman swarms over the growing structure, sculpting the hard granite with his bare hands, arms flying like piston rods, working tirelessly until his mansion is nears completion.

Superman inspects his work.

Outside carved from the rock face an impressive door way is framed with art-deco styled detailing, towering curved pillars and arches. The interior and exterior is polished to marble like finish, from floor to ceiling the room gleams; and even though the citadel still lacks fixtures, fittings or furnishings, the single completed chamber – the first of many in his minds eye plan - looked resplendent.

Happy the Man of Tomorrow briefly rests satisfied with the result of his labours; then Superman returns to Metropolis in search of high grade steel, suitable heavy metal for the construction of the massive door which will secure his citadel in the unlikely event of discovery.

Clark Kent has sizeable savings set aside for a rainy day and for good works, held in gold at a major Metropolis Bank. Gold that Superman was always able to see and extract from unknown and unclaimed seams deep in earth's rocky heart with his bare hands.

Metropolis Steel furnishes Superman with high grade metal in exchange for hard cash, and the Man of Tomorrow transports and fabricates the metal as he needs it, cutting and welding with his new found heat vision, shaping and moulding with his bare hands. Huge doors now seal tight and lock shut his secret citadel.

Superman is now ready to begin his very personal experiment.

-'S'-

Jimmy Oslen and Lois Lane entered the already crowded auditorium in Metropolis Covenant Gardens Park.

"Gee Miss Lane what do make of this America First organisation?"

"Jimmy if I was to tell you exactly what I thought I'd shatter any illusions you had about me being a lady."

Jimmy was all shocked.

"I'm sorry but they are so on the far side of wrong I'd say they were a papers width away from being traitors."

"But, Charles Lindbergh is here, that's Mr Charles - 'the spirit of St Louis', first to fly single handedly non-stop across the Atlantic - Lindbergh. He's got the medal of honour!"

"I realise that, and there are lot of important people who agree with him, but I don't.

"Look I'm not saying that he isn't a brave man who has achieved much and suffered much; that kidnapping and murder of his baby son was terrible – but non of that changes that in my opinion he got too close to the Nazi's. Yes he was working for Army Air Corps when he visited Germany and go to fly their wonder planes, I understand those were his orders.

"But I can't forget that Adolf Hitler, got Göring to present him with a medal - the Commander Cross of the Order of the German Eagle!

"Which he refuses to return despite what's going on over there."

"Wow Miss Lane I didn't realise."

Lois nodded.

"Still we are here to do a job of work - you need to get some good shots of him and the other self important types, it won't be so long before things get started."

Lois led the way to the front where the rallies organisers had set seating aside for the news hounds. Jimmy took his place near the stage ready to get his shots.

She sat down with her colleagues, the gentlemen of the press.

In due course various well dressed men took their seats on the stage, then from the podium the rotund profile of non other than the noted isolationist and vocal supporter of the Monroe Doctrine Senator Jeremy Barrows.

He was brief and to the point and then with thunderous applause he introduced Lindbergh, who took to the microphone.

"My fellow Americans our civilization depends on peace among Western nations, and therefore on united strength, for Peace is a virgin who dare not show her face without Strength, her father, for protection."

Lois scribbled the occasional note, and began watching the figures on the stage behind him, she recognised most of them businessmen, local politicians in the main.

Then she turned her attentions to the supporting staff. Meanwhile Lindbergh's address continued

"The potentially gigantic power of America, guided by uninformed and impractical idealism, might crusade into Europe to destroy Hitler without realizing that Hitler's destruction would lay Europe open to the rape, loot and barbarism of Soviet Russia's forces, causing possibly the fatal wounding of our great and noble Western civilization.

"The United States must as a matter of urgency negotiate a neutrality pact with Germany, and yet there are agitators in this our America; and who are these War Agitators?" Lindbergh asked.

Lois stared at one man in particular his familiar face troubled her.

"There are in fact three groups." Lindbergh argued. "Three groups that are pressing this country toward to war; these are the British, the Jewish and the Roosevelt Administration.

"Instead of agitating for war, the Jewish groups in this country should be opposing it in every possible way for they will be among the first to feel its consequences. Tolerance is a virtue that depends upon peace and strength. History shows that it cannot survive war and devastation."

Lois stared at the man in the shadows his moustache was a defining characteristic, but there was something familiar about his posture.

"And while no person with a sense of the dignity of mankind can condone the persecution of the Jewish race in Germany. Yet here in the United States of America the Jewish People's have large ownership and influence in our motion pictures, our press, our radio and our government." Lindbergh declared.

Lois eased up from her seat, and excused herself she ducked out to get a closer look at the hidden figure.

"I am not attacking either the Jewish or the British people. Both races, I admire, and our bond with Europe is one of race and not of political ideology."

As people in the hall applauded his rhetoric Lois saw the object of attention remove his glasses, even with the moustache, the confident self assured manner was instantly recognisable. He rubbed the bridge of his nose before replacing them.

"Reynolds!" Lois whispered between her teeth. She had no idea how the Ultra Humanite's enforcer had escaped the explosion that had destroyed the bunker and the mansion above it, but she was now almost certain that he had, that this man was either his long lost twin, or the man himself; either way a nutty coincidence or amazing escape from death, Lois meant to find out whether her suspicions were correct.

-'S'-

Alfie Jones was stood waiting for Clark as Superman who landed quietly in the yard at the back of the farmhouse.

"Evening Alfie." The older man turned round.

For a long moment Superman thought his old friend wouldn't recognise him.

"That's some outfit Clark." he said. "You've changed, changed an awful lot in a short time."

"I've been busy, and I've been travelling."

"How's Metropolis?"

"It's interesting, I'm a reporter for a Newspaper."

Alfie nodded. "Your Pa wrote me about that.

"Good to see things are improving around Smallville." Superman observed. "Things look so much better than when I last dropped by. Especially around the farm."

Alfie ignored the obvious compliment, but he was still pleased by it, he said. "The wife and kids have taken a ride into town, I didn't think you'd want an audience."

"Thanks."

"Going to be dark soon, sun's almost done setting."

"There's no one around for a mile or so." Superman noted. "But darkness would be better."

"The note you slipped under my door said that you needed privacy, said you'd be collecting something personal."

"Yes – thanks for being understanding, and I am sorry Alfie but this means disturbing the lawn over there." Superman pointed to the corner of the yard.

"The graves?" Alfie noted and drew deep on his cigarette.

"They're not really there you know, not their remains."

"Yeah I know, guess you got your reasons for doing what you need to. I'll just get a spade."

Superman stood and looked at the headstones he had carved by his reckoning some two years before. There still freshly inscribed was the names Jor-El and Lara.

He pulled them free and put them to one side.

Taking the spade from Alfie he speedily cut a large area of turf into squares and stacked them to one side. Then digging in one half of the exposed earth he piled the spoil from his hole on the other.

Alfie didn't hide his surprise at the speed at which Superman quickly uncovered long buried globe. Pulling it free the Man of Steel set this too to one side, but before Superman began refilling the hole Alfie started throwing the turf into the pit.

"Might as well make use of the turned earth to grow some more vegetables." he said decisively.

Superman laughed and quickly finished levelling out the newly dug garden plot.

"I knew you was strong, and quick, but I've never seen anything like it! Clark the way you can work, it's something else.

"And look at you in that suit, been into the earth and not a mark on it, and you too, you look as clean as whistle."

Superman shrugged embarrassed. "It's one of those things that happened more recently, as I got older, it's like I'm wearing an invisible underwear, but that's all over me, nothing like dirt sticks to my skin, kind of wish it had been this way back when the dust was really bad, Mom used to get mad if I walked in dusty."

Alfie reached out and took his hand. "You don't feel any different."

"I'm still the same person, maybe grown up, a little older, a little wiser, but still me."

The older man looked troubled.

"Look Alfie, nothing has changed, except people get to see me doing things in this suit, they don't know who I was here in Smallville, or who I am in Metropolis."

"You think it's like them radio waves?"

"What do you mean - radio waves?"

"What ever it is that keeps the dirt off your hands and your face. Them radio waves, they are all around us all the time or so my little girl tells me - but you can't see them or feel them, but they are there, something like that must keep you clean."

"You mean making an invisible barrier all over me? Yes Alfie – I believe it's something exactly like that."

Clark smiled as he was reminded that Alfie's casual manner was a front, beneath which he hid a keen and perceptive mind. Superman continued. "You know that I really need you to keep my, well, secret; now more than ever."

"Of course! I understand... Superman." Alfie said with a wry smile; adding "Your Pa included copies of the paper you write for last time he mailed me."

The Man of Tomorrow smiled. "I knew I could count on you Alfie, you are the best."

Superman picked up the globe shaped craft that had brought him to earth, and also the two headstones engraved with his parents names.

Alfie looked on wide eyed.

"See again soon buddy, you all take care now." Superman said as he rose slowly from the ground, before accelerating away into the night.

-'S'-

Lois had successfully made her way backstage, looking for the man she thought had to be Reynolds, and now hidden behind stacks of chairs and other stage furnishings she could see him under the brighter light of an unshaded light bulb. Two other men were in conversation, with Reynolds's 'twin' to her great surprise she recognised one of them.

"Doctor Reynolds we have taken delivery of the literature." Said the man who Lois knew as Army Captain Frank Martin.

Reynolds nodded. He reached into his pocket and brought out a small note book. "This contains the list of men we have recruited, men like you Martin, men with an axe to grind against this Government for the weak, I don't have to tell you how important this list is."

Martin nodded. "Of course, we'll get the dockets to these men to distribute."

"I'm expected at the after rally party. I best return to the stage." Reynolds stated.

Martin shook his hand.

Once Reynolds had left Martin and the other man left for the street outside. Lois waited for a moment before following after the army officer.

Keeping him in sight, but not drawing attention to herself, Lois followed and watched Martin until he and the second man entered a hotel not far from the Covenant Garden Auditorium itself.

Conscious that she had abandoned Jimmy she returned to find the young photographer.

Winding her way back she returned to he seat as Lindbergh's speech came to it's conclusion.

"Fellow American Patriots what I am saying to you tonight, is that the leaders of both the British and the Jewish races, for reasons which are as understandable from their viewpoint as they are inadvisable from ours, for reasons which are not American, wish to involve us in the war.

"We cannot blame them for looking out for what they believe to be their own interests, but we also must look out for ours. We cannot allow the natural passions and prejudices of other peoples to lead our country to destruction."

With loud applause many rose to their feet. Flash bulbs began exploding as Lindbergh waved to the crowd. Lois sat firmly in her seat.

As the hubbub died down, and the principles of the Metropolis America First Chapter left the stage, Jimmy returned to Lois.

"Hey Miss Lane where did you get to?" He asked cheerfully, "you missed a lot of what he had to say."

"Jimmy one word – Press release, his speech will be available to us in print, in just a moments, you watch... ah ha! Look in fact there is the man handing out copies right now."

Lois walked across and took one. "This isn't about what he said, America First and the Isolationists like Barrows have been preaching this principal of the Monroe Doctrine long enough, there is very little new in that.

"What's really important is that we capture the atmosphere, the attitude of this movement."

"A lot of people here liked what he had to say."

"Yes and that scares me Jimmy. Come on I have to make a phone call."

Lois stopped off in the late Café and bought Jimmy a milk shake. She sipped a coffee and made a call from the public phone.

"Pegasus Field, US Army Air Corps." She told the operator, moments later she was connected to the base. "Captain John Carrick please." Lois waited for the switch to put her through.

"Hey Jonny-boy this is Lois Lane. So what's the news with you guys; managing to live without me?" Lois swapped small talk for a couple of minutes, before coming to the point.

"Look John the reason I'm calling is I ran into an old friend of ours, Frank Martin. I didn't get chance to speak to him, but it was a big surprise to see him in civvies, I thought he was a career soldier?"

The Army officer on the other end of the phone went quiet, saying finally. "Look Lois, I know you stepped out with him more than once."

"That was years ago now." Lois laughed. "I was just a kid."

"Lois you were never just a kid, at least not the way I remember it."

"I gave my dad hell didn't I?"

"You did."

"What's up Jonny, what is it your not telling me."

"I'm sorry Lois but I haven't seen Frank in a long time, he dropped off the map for a while, and the last I heard – well it wasn't good, D.D'd – and that was kept pretty quiet, I only heard about it on the grape vine."

"Dishonourable Discharge? Frank?"

"Being a commissioned officer it was technically a dismissal, but we both know that amounts to same thing."

Lois cursed.

"Yeah I know – sounds nuts but that's the honest truth." Carrick concluded, and after he and Lois said their goodbyes, she returned the receiver to the cradle with a worried frown. Something didn't add up – she knew Frank Martin, or at least she thought she did, but this?

It did not make sense to her; added to that was the odd Doctor Reynolds, could it be the same enforcer, the same Reynolds that had run for Ultra Humanite. Maybe the enforcer really had a twin. Lois was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"Come on Jimmy, we are going to do some real reporting."

Jimmy sucked up the last of his shake. "Okay Miss Lane." He grabbed his camera and followed her into the street.

Together they made there way into the hotel she had seen Martin and the other man enter.

Walking over to the front desk she said. "Do you have a Frank Martin staying here?"

The Receptionist checked the register.

"Yes, we have Mr Frank Martin in room 184. Would you like me to ring through to his room?" he asked her.

Lois paused to think. She gambled.

"Yes. Could you tell him Lois Lane would like to speak to him."

He turned to switch board behind him and connected through to Martins room. "I'm sorry Miss Lane but he isn't answering."

"Has he checked out?"

"No, at least he hasn't left his key with us – but that doesn't always happen."

"May I go up and try his door? He is an old friend, I would really like to catch up with him while he's in town."

The Receptionist considered Lois request, her charm won through. "I can't see that being a problem. 184 is on the second floor."

Lois told Jimmy to stake out the lobby, she gave him a quick description of the men in question, and left him watching the door.

An elevator ride and short walk later saw Lois knocking at Frank Martin's room. No one answered her.

Lois looked around she eventually caught up with one of the Hotel's bellhops.

"Sugar my husband's gone and gone out and taken the key to our room with him, and I'm locked out; you couldn't do a girl a big favour and let me in?"

The young man smiled, and Lois directed him to room 184, he popped open the door with his skeleton key.

Lois bid him farewell with a generous smile and tip, before closing the door behind her.

She listened intently, but there was no sound indicating anyone was indeed inside and ignoring her earlier attempts to contact them.

Quickly Lois began to check the room over. It was empty of any personal touches, if Martin was staying here, he was simply sleeping in the bed.

She checked the drawers, they were largely empty apart from Hotel paraphernalia, that was until she came across a bundle of printed papers.

Turning on one of the bedside lamps Lois skim read the Fifth Columnists Propaganda leaflet, there were good number of identical copies. Another package contained money, and no small amount either.

The Door swung open behind her, Lois span to see Martin gun in hand walking towards her.

He smiled when he recognised her.

"So we're married now are we?" Frank asked her.

"Sure – where have you been all my life?" Lois asked dryly.

"I was just over in my friends room. Then on the way back here I run into the Bellhop, he's all friendly when he sees me - saying how he'd let my wife into my room, I guess he thought I might tip him."

The door closed behind the second man. He too was also armed, and stopping by the door Martin's colleague flicked on the main light.

"So Lois, just when did a couple of dinner dances end up in our nuptials because I'm not remembering the happy day." Martin cracked.

Lois held up the cash. "Whatever you are doing now Frank, it sure pays better than the army – doesn't it?"

Frank holstered his gun.

"Okay Lois – I've nothing to hide from the Colonel's girl.

"This is Jeff Carlton, he's my partner. Jeff this is Lois Lane, you might remember her dad, one Colonel Lane US Army Air Corps."

Carlton tucked his iron into his pants. "Looks like both Lane's are hard to forget. For different reasons of course."

Martin laughed. "Don't let the beauty and skirt deceive you Jeff, this lady is just as tough as her old man, and twice as feisty."

"Okay buster you've got some explaining to do." Lois demanded.

"I'm not the one letting themselves into a man's hotel room."

"Money. Un-American Propaganda. DD'd – what happened to the Frank Martin I knew?"

Frank laughed. "I'm with Military Intelligence Lois, so is Jeff, we were assigned out of Pegasus filed to investigate rumours that Fifth Columnists were operating in Metropolis – I even called Taylor, thought your people might have heard something."

"Right... and your dismissal from the Army?"

"Was a cover – what better a recruit for the enemy than a disgruntled officer with a bad record?"

"So who is Reynolds – I mean Doctor Reynolds?"

"How do you know about the Doctor?" Carlton demanded.

"I'm a reporter – it's my business to know." Lois replied. "And I know about that list too Frank."

"Doggone it woman, how the hell did you... you must have been watching us back at the Rally."

"Why were you back stage?" Carlton demanded.

"I saw Reynolds – he reminded me of another guy... also called Reynolds. Looked the same too; but this guy had no glasses, no moustache, sharper suits, and a bad attitude."

"No kidding?" Martin asked surprised.

"Yes. As far as I know _that_ Reynolds was killed in the disturbance that toppled that mansion up in the hills. You might have read the article."

"Yeah I did, what they are calling an earthquake."

Lois nodded. "Either he's a twin, or Reynolds didn't die; and given who he was working for, that's something to worry about."

"Who?"

"Somebody calling themselves the Ultra Humanite. Does that name mean anything to you?"

"Can't say that it does."

"He was the real guy behind the attempted murder of the actress Dolores De Winters, and a colleague at the Star."

"That I read about too. - What's the connection? I thought De Winters had been linked to that gangster; Butch Matson. Weren't his people the shooters?"

"Indirectly – Matson was connected through Reynolds, and Reynolds was an enforcer for the Ultra Humanite.

"You don't know about that because Taylor is sitting on this – at least until we can get more solid evidence, because everything connected with them was buried under that house.

"Both of them - Ultra, and Reynolds too were dead and buried; or so I thought – at least until tonight."

"That's some story Lois." Frank said scratching his head. "Could it be this Ultra character is the guy I've been trying to find? You say he's dead?"

Carlton turned around and faced the wall, he seemed angry, and began to fidget.

"I assumed so – well I can't see how he could have escaped. There was a big explosion..." Lois didn't finish her explanation as her words were violently interrupted by a gun shot.

Carlton stood his gloved hand wrapped around the butt of his pistol. Frank Martin lay dead, a single shot to the heart.

Lois looked on wide eyed.

Carlton threw her his gun.

She caught it instinctively, immediately realising her mistake. Carlton swung the door to the room wide open. "Help!" he shouted.

Lois tired to bluff her way out, but she was not hopeful as she pointed the gun at him.

Carlton smiled.

"One slug in the chamber and you used it." Lois said already guessing what he had done, lowering the empty gun she looked at Frank Martin's dead body sadly.

Suddenly the Bellhop dashed through the open door, the sound of the gunshot already had him running.

"This woman shot my friend." Carlton exclaimed. "Over money!" he pointed at the pile of cash Lois had left on the bed.

The young man stood stunned. "Well get the police!" Carlton barked.

The Bellhop ran - this time out of the room obeying this obvious demand.

Carlton laughed.

"Well Miss Lane, it appears you know more than you should." He bent down and began rifling through Frank's pockets. "Not that it matters now; in fact I should thank you - you've given me the perfect opportunity to neutralise Martin, and you. Both of you with one shot."

Carlton smiled as he drew out the pocket book. "Thing is Doctor Reynolds didn't know Frank and I were agents for the Army, so this little book is the real deal, but the funny thing is my Partner didn't know I was a double agent; well I guess it was actually the last thing he every knew."

"You bastard." Lois snapped.

Carlton reached to draw out Martins pistol from the shoulder holster. Lois kicked him in the face.

The double agent was caught by surprise, he fell backwards.

Lois grabbed the loaded gun from off Frank's body, and pointed it at the stunned Carlton, keeping the gun level as she picked up the pocket book.

"I should shoot you."

"You should." Carlton wiped the blood from his mouth. "Might as well dance for two murders than just one, you'll be dead all the same when they give you the chair.

"Yeah, that's right, your prints are on the murder weapon, go on shoot me, that'll seal the deal."

Lois shook her head angrily and looked around. She went across to the window, where the room faced out to back of the hotel. It opened out onto a fire escape. That made sense; a professional like Martin would have chosen a room with an escape route. She just wished Frank had the same forethought to see Carlton for what he truly was, but now and she had only one aim to get out and get in touch with Detective McBrodie. The last thing she needed was the hassle of been arrested by a Metro-PD flat foot.

Lois swung the window open..

"Give me a reason Carlton, and I will shoot you." She said as she hopped outside. The double agent got to his feet, but he did not follow her.

Lois skipped down the metal stairs, dropping to the ground she ran from the sound of the approaching sirens out into the night.

-'S'-

Superman rested the Kryptonian globe craft that had delivered him into his mother's arms on pedestal he had carved for this very purpose. He placed the stones that bore his parents name beneath it.

For what seemed to him, a long while, he stood close to the globe and stared intently at the surface of the ship, incrementally he both looked both deeper and closer.

Staring at the impenetrable fabric of incredibly uniform and flawlessly constructed artefact; while at the same time he applied his new found heat vision, attempting to transfer energy from his body to the craft.

Concentrating he expanded his field of vision. Beginning with the pinpoint microscopic accuracy that had allowed him to weld his cut costume, before adopting an ever widening encompassing burst of energy. All the time working to increase the ferocity of his fiery rays.

Eventually he began to tire, and weaken.

Disappointed his experiment had not apparently succeeded an exhausted Superman relented, he found himself reaching out to the craft with his hand, necessarily steadying his stance, Kal-El's finger tips brushed the silky skin of the ship and the despite the unparalleled heat Superman had unleashed, the vessel still remained cold to the touch, but as Kal-El brushed against the alien metal the star craft became responsive.

Shimmering the globe rose from stone pedestal and began to phosphoresce. In the gentle glow of his space cradle Superman watched the vessel hover silently.

He was overcome with joy, and yet for the first time in many years the Man of Tomorrow felt like he needed to sleep, desperately. He sank to he knees, physical tiredness, a result of him using his heat vision so extensively, overwhelmed him, and his eyes closed, Superman had no choice but to lay down to sleep; and to dream.


	28. Chapter 28

Superman lay underneath the light of the great sun Rao.

Above him was a powder blue sky, beneath him glittered sands made of a rainbow colours.

Grains and pebbles of semi precious and precious stones.

Crystal clear turquoise waters lapped upon the beach.

Sitting up he turned and saw behind him a forest of lush vegetation alive with vivid colours in leaf and stem, intensely exciting perfumes wafted from a myriad of even more brightly coloured flowers that made the diamond, ruby, sapphire, and emerald sands appear drab.

Then walking to him was his mirror image.

Tall and and dark, a man of distinction, the costumes primary colours of his Kryptonian garb intense – and yet subtle differences seemed to shout out loudly to him.

The cape was longer, more regal - but less practical perhaps than the way Superman habitually wore his own, more a full cloak that almost touched the sands; this man sported a golden headband and warm smile.

"Kal-El. It is good that we can finally meet."

"Where am I – who are you?"

"Simply my son, I am your Father, Jor-El, and this is essentially a dream."

"how?..."

"More technically a dream like state that allows you to interface with the artificial intelligence of the Kyrptonian artefact you activated. This matrix was the heart and brain of the vessel that carried you from Krypton to this world."

"Father?"

Jor-El extended a hand and Superman took it. This felt real but at the same time he knew it was not. Reality was only what brain perceived to be real – and this world existed again, but only in his mind.

Standing the two men began to walk together along the sea shore.

"I understood you were dead, and Krypton destroyed."

"That is true, but death is not a certain state, not even among the people of Earth."

Lara emerged from the Sea, Venus - like her costume a feminine version of the one worn by Jor-El and Superman.

She embraced him and with a warm smile said. "This is not how it was meant to be my darling.

"We are long dead, but we live on with you, you share our memories, and those of all the house of El indeed all your antecedents – these are encoded deep with your physiology."

Jor-El added. "And a copy of our memories and our personality exists with the craft that brought you to earth."

"I copied Jor-El's biological memory and my own before your Father and I translated our consciousness into a higher state of non-corporeal existence." His mother explained.

"Which I augmented with aspects of our more highly evolved consciousness when we built the space ark that survived Krypton's destruction."

Superman held up his hand "Wait – why did I survive, why didn't you come to earth as well and why did Kyrpton die?"

"Everything dies – Kyrpton was our home, but the universe in which we existed died, we were – put simply, evolved beyond flesh and blood – as a race we were no longer material beings, the only link that existed between our heightened consciousnesses and the material universe was Krypton, once that was gone we and all our kind were gone."

"But... Father. Does that mean you are dead or alive?"

"You ask is there life after death? I don't know, because I am in terms you might better understand given your earth culture a sort of technological ghost, my knowledge is limited by the finite storage capacity of the spacecraft, and to the specifics your mother and I determined was important and necessary to preserve for you when we were still alive."

"Forgive me Father, but what could you know of Earth's culture?"

Lara took his hand. "Only what you know Kal-El – as I said, this wasn't meant to be like this, instead on a subconscious level you are interfacing with artificial intelligence of the space craft, and sharing your memories with us – we are currently speaking in an English and Kyrptonian hybrid language, yet in this dream state this is rendered so it feels natural and goes unnoticed.

"Honestly I wanted to walk and talk with you like this while you were yet a child, but that wasn't possible."

"Why? What happened?"

Jor-El frowned. "Energy, or the lack of it. We were able to guide your small craft to Earth, but with time running short and on the basis of a limited sample, we chose the Kent's. Then making first contact, we gave you over to them.

"Kal-El the desperate conditions at that time forced your craft to enter a hibernation mode to conserve what little energy remained.

"You see the craft your foster parents found is only the innermost matrix of a far larger space vessel.

"One which was assembled from the living metal. This was the very substance of Krypton itself.

"This living machine was designed to cross inter-dimensional space seeking out parallel realities where humanity evolved sooner in space time."

Lara looked at her son. "Darling I wanted you to have a family, to grow up and be loved as I was, as Jor-El was.

"These bodies which you see reproduced from memory in this dream, were our natural form, and although we chose to evolve beyond this, your Father and I never forgot our humanity.

"Finding a sentient humanoid race whose nature mirrored our own, a naturally evolved ancestral human species, this depended on the existence of an alternative reality; a universe that differed from our own in one important detail.

"Kal-El Kryptonians evolved late, towards the the end of our universes life cycle, time was short for us - but this ship would seek out an ideal variant reality, where a humanoid species like us evolved much earlier in an universal cycle.

"Earth?"

Jor-El reached out and touched his sons shoulder. "Yes and no.

"Earth was close to ideal, but my memory parameters first rejected Earth due to it's endemic inhumanity; inhumane violence and war."

Lara shook her head. "Earth is no more violent than our distant ancestors were to each other in comparable primitive and savage times."

"That may be darling, but was it so wrong that I sought better for our son?"

"Please, whatever your intentions – I am here; so why Earth?"

Jor-El sighed. "Shortly after dipping into this your current universe and undertaking the process of searching for a suitable human population, your vessel skipped into another sub-universe, one a trans-dimensional nature where incredibly powerful god like beings were engaged in a cataclysmic war involving powers alien and very different to our own science.

"Sensing your great potential they attempted to take control of your vessel, but in the confrontation that saw them struggle to posses you - both sides annihilated themselves unleashing a cosmic altering force – a wave of power that ripped through various inter-connected realities, including Earth both forwards and backwards through space and time."

Lara looked into his eyes. "Darling we believe you have already encountered one consequence of this God-Wave event – the Ultra Humanite, who called himself the god Hepheastus."

Superman considered this. "This would mean he told me the truth, that he is just one of many similarly empowered beings."

"That may be the case, Son." His Father agreed.

"What happened to the Space ship - was it damaged by the God-Wave?" Superman asked.

"Yes that is exactly what happened, the spacecraft sustained damage, however this was not detected until it shifted out of the trans-dimensional void and into the next divergent reality's three dimensional space.

"The vessel took form, materialising; but the outermost structure, which made up the greater part of his its volume had been compromised by the God-Wave blast, and was once in normal space the living metal under went a metamorphosis.

"The artificial intelligence system that guided the automated survey process determined that unless it acted immediately your life would be endangered, so it selected the best fit from it's completed surveys, and that world was this Earth.

"Bouncing back to this reality your craft entered normal space at the outer limits of the Solar System of which Earth is part, and immediately the inner matrix was jettisoned. Much like a life boat it was able under it's stored power to reach earth; however separated from it's main generator there was only sufficient remaining energy to make contact with your foster parents, before hibernation became unavoidable.

"Then I reactivated the matrix?"  
"Yes – you re-energised the battery in effect – your foster father buried the matrix away, although I understand why he did this, the tragedy is if he had left the vessel exposed to sunlight it would have drawn power from solar radiation and would have in time recharged.

"We would have been part of your childhood." Lara explained.

"And rest of the space ship, what became of it?"

"It suffered complete structural failure shortly after the Matrix was launched, and is lost." She stated.

"Mother – if I have your memories and those of my ancestors – then why don't I remember any of this history?"

Lara smiled. "Kal-El you are doing exactly that.

"Let me explain, just as a child grows, it learns; acquires skills, the necessary co-ordination to focus, to grasp, to walk, and to run, and as the body grows in size and strength so the skills and talents also grow and change.

"For you those abilities included powers beyond those of other humans, you have become super-human, but that process of evolution for you has not stopped just because your physical appearance approaches its full mature completion.

"You see my darling just as it would have been foolish to have put in your baby hands the adult strength you now possess, so it would be foolish to put into your mind the full extent of all memory and wisdom of Krypton."

"Our culture is one of science and discovery." Jor-El stated. "The Kryptonian way is to study and experiment; Krypton valued the acquisition of knowledge, and it is only right you discover your heritage in this way; as an intellectual challenge worthy of a man, a son of the House of El.

"You possess great potential, Kal-El but for all your great strength among earthmen you are by Kyrpton-men standards intellectually still a child, I will not let my son play with fire until he has fully matured."

"But Earth could benefit from your science, from the technical advances in this device?"

"Kal-El, you are uniquely equipped to learn and grow to understand your Kyrptonian Heritage, but your fellow human's on Earth are not yet ready to open the 'Pandora's box' that _is_ this craft. Earth is far from ready to understand the mysteries it contains.

"Yes inside this ark there are sciences that could cure all manner of sickness, but that same knowledge could be used to create and weaponise far worse diseases.

"Yes we could power the lights across the world, but that same power could destroy all life in the universe."

"The crest of the House of El has stood for Hope for countless millennia in the long dead universe that birthed you, now that Hope is resurrected in you;

"Kal-El stand for Hope in this Earth. It is your duty to protect and serve these human beings because you are greater than them.

"With you as their guardian they may yet survive war and disaster to evolve into their full potential; and perhaps even because of you surpass it."


	29. Chapter 29

Clark Kent walked into the Newsroom of the Daily Star, his mood was sombre. Superman had experienced a vision of a long dead world, as Kal-El he now knew more about his birth parents and his distant alien origins.

Jor-El had deliberately left more questions unanswered than he had attempted to answer, more over that was a direct challenge to his son. Superman knew he must rise to rise to meet these expectations, if not for himself, as much as Clark wanted to know all he could about Krypton, but for the greater good.

Doffing his hat and sitting down at his desk, the Man of Tomorrow checked his in tray and listened to the room.

Oddly he found the mood even more sombre than his own.

"Hey Kent. Welcome back." Curly Lombard was however unabashed. "What to you reckon? Our own Lois Lane a killer?"

"What?" Clark spat.

Lombard parked his backside on the edge of Clark's desk, he sucked on a cheroot. "Yeah the Star's one and only fearless girl reporter seen gunning down an old boyfriend - over a pile of cash."

"That's crazy."

"That's dames for you Kent." Curly said coolly. "Good thing you've moved onto that kitten De Winters, I bet she purrs real sweet."

Clark grabbed Curly's collar. "Shut up Lombard." He pulled him off the desk driving him to the floor, before remembering himself and stumbling back.

"Gosh Steve did you slip there, do you need a hand."  
"What's going on here?" Taylor barked across the room. "Curly you better not be drunk. Get up."

Lombard gave Clark a black angry stare, uncertain what had happened, but bitter enough to blame the younger man for his embarrassment.

"Kent – my office now." The Chief ordered.

Clark duly appeared inside the Editors inner sanctum.

"Sorry Mr Taylor, it wasn't how it seemed out there..."

"Button it Kent, I don't give a damn, listen up. Now you're back, there is a story I want you cover."

Taylor passed him a letter.

"This Professor, a fellow at Metropolis University has been on my back about a Comet that's headed towards Earth; I smell a story in here providing you can decipher the science jargon and translate this into American."

Clark glanced at the letter immediately reading it in it's entirety.

"Chief I appreciate you've tagged me as the science guy, but I've just heard about Lois..."

"Kent. I know you are sweet on that girl, heck any idiot can see that, beats me why a mouse like you would want to tame a tiger like that one, but I'm not writing the Love Lorn column either; however that is exactly what you'll be doing if you ever question my assignments again."

Clark bit down on his words, but he could not let this pass. "Chief with all due respect, if Lois is in trouble then I have to try and help?"

Taylor aggressively stubbed out his cigarette, before lighting a second. He sighed and nodded.

"Kent this is how it is. Lois is missing, presumably hiding from the cops, we hope – as opposed to six feet under, or worse.

"She was good at her job Kent, real good, better than most of the guys here in a tight squeeze and a fox, and I mean she was twice as sly.

"And yet she's in the frame for the murder of a guy who I know was really working for Army investigating a Fifth Columnist cell in Metropolis – but the Police are calling our guy Captain Frank Martin a Nazi, worse the Cops are painting Lane as a traitor too – you know her and her dad don't see eye to eye, so that clearly means she hates the army and America too?

Taylor waved Clark down before he could indignantly protest.

"Look I know that's bull. But that's how it looks when her prints are on the iron that shot dead a man she's dated, beside a pile of incriminating anti American propaganda along with fifty thousand blood stained dollars in a cheap hotel room.

"Take it from me Kent you might be smart, but you're still green - you've not being with us more than five minutes; and when it comes to it this kind of work is strictly for the professionals – and I'm not including Lane, I mean this is espionage Kent not reporting.

"Besides don't you think the Cops and the Army will be watching the Star? Watching Lois's friends and colleagues? You especially given the by-lines you two have shared lately.

"Chief I just feel I should do something."

"I know son, but believe me Colonel Lane might not like his daughter much but he sure as hell loves her, and he'll move heaven and earth to get to the bottom of this.

"Believe me – this isn't a job for Clark Kent."

-'S'-

Lois tried to the phone again, she covered the mouthpiece with a handkerchief.

"Detective McBrodie Please, and no I won't give my name, and yes it's me again – mystery girl."

Lois waited. Finally Steven picked up.

"At last!" She sighed. "Where have you been all night?"

"Hello is that you Bob?" McBrodie almost shouted down the phone. "Lines bad."

"No you nut! It's Lois."

"Bob! Great to hear from you, yeah it's real busy with us down here."

Lois realised what was going on.

"You can't talk to me?"

"Yes that's right."

"Some one is there with you?"

"You bet Bob, all the time, you know how it is."

"Can't you get away?"

"I can't see us being able to catch up for a while buddy, it's murder down here at Central, you know how it gets. You'll have to grab a beer by yourself, I can't get away from the job.

"Look I think maybe you _should_ come down here; we could maybe sort something out – save us both a lot of trouble, what do you think?"

"Thanks for nothing Steven." Lois said angrily. She slammed the phone down, and almost immediately felt guilty.

It stood to reason that McBrodie, given that their social and professional lives had crossed often in recent months, would be singled out for attention by his colleagues.

She put her head in her hands and sighed.

"Now what are you going to do?" She whispered to herself, finally she let go of her pent up emotions; loss of her friend Frank Martin, and the loneliness of being on run and entirely innocent.

Maybe McBrodie was right, maybe she should give herself up, Lois thought as she wiped at her tears with her handkerchief, either way she recognised she better make a decision sooner rather than later and before things got a whole lot worse.

At his desk in Metropolis Central Police Headquarters, McBrodie said his warm good byes to the fictitious Bob, whilst actually listening to static.

"Sorry about that." He said. "Where were we?"

"You were just about to tell me where I should start looking for Lois Lane Detective." Jeff Carlton asked.

"Now that is a good question, and to be honest I used to ask that myself a lot, and that was back when I thought Lois and I were stepping out together."

"You're not? Who is she seeing now?"

McBrodie frowned. "Well nobody, probably somebody, never seriously – she's not the committing type."

"Come on Detective – give me something, your Country expects you to co-operate. I shouldn't have to remind you that not only was Frank Martin a traitor but he was also clearly a double agent."

"Okay Carlton I know this is personal with you."

"No McBrodie, my interest is Professional, if it wasn't I wouldn't be on this case.

"Now tell me who should we be watching that we're not already?"

"Well if Lois is sweet on anyone - it's the guy that flies."

Carlton burst out laughing. "Come on Detective, you expect me to believe in a flying man?"

"Plenty of people saw and heard what happened at Pegasus field, besides I've seen him myself."

"You mean that Metro-radio stunt, they're clearly hand in hand with the Daily Star." Carlton sniffed dismissively. "It's just an attempt to reproduce the hysteria and publicity that actor managed... what was he called... Orson Wells wasn't it?.. Yes that was the guy that did that radio broadcast last year, got people believing in an alien invasion – War of the Worlds, they called it.

"After that debacle, I can't believe any intelligent people are actually buying into this Superman fantasy, at best it's just an actor – a stunt man probably in a circus suit"

"Like I said I've seen him."

"My point exactly Detective, and at the same time you expect me to believe you when you say you _haven't_ seen or talked to Miss Lane?

"I think you are fast blowing any credibility you have.."

"I am co-operating with your investigation just like the Commissioner asked me to do."

"Good – then you won't mind me sticking around, just in case your girlfriend does contact you."

"Be my guest Agent Carlton – take a seat, we can waste time together, meanwhile I can assure you regardless of what you think you saw - the real killer is out there pursuing his anti American agenda."

"Ha! Detective McBrodie, I promise you that I am not wasting my time today, and you can also believe me when I say I do know who the killer is _exactly._"

-'S'-

Clark Kent arrived at Metropolis University Campus, set in the city within the University Park, the modern dedicated tertiary education facility was like a small town within Metropolis itself. Part of the original New City plan that saw Metropolis rise quickly from flat land beside the twin water ways, West River and Hobb's River.

He had agreed over the telephone to meet Professor Barnett in his office within the prestigious Department of Physics and Astronomy; and following the directions from the map-board to the large buildings many areas, lecture theatres, and labs, Clark hastily arrives at the Scientist's door.

Kent was agitated, he wanted to get this story covered as quickly as possible, so he could concentrate on finding Lois and clearing her name; because he didn't for one moment believe the girl was cold hearted killer.

"Come in Mr Kent." Barnett called out as Clark rapped on the door.

The Professor was an older man, grey haired and slight, every bit the long time servant of academia that Kent had imagined him to be.

The Professors office adjoined a laboratory and beyond that a lecture theatre.

Clark notes as he enters Barnett's presence that a strange tired feeling comes over him. The older man gestured to the reporter to sit down opposite him at his desk.

Clark gladly relaxes, his sombre perturbed mood deepens.

"You seem a little tired Mr Kent, a late night perhaps?

"I'm just returned from seeing my parents in Maryland."

"Yes your Editor told me his science guy was out of the office, were you a student here at Metropolis University?"

"No Sir, but I subscribe to a number of periodicals – I read your last article in Scientific American about the likelihood of further planetary bodies being discovered beyond Pluto, to account for the discrepancies in the orbits of Uranus and Neptune."

"Indeed Planet X." Bartlett nodded. "So Mr Kent – what do you know about asteroids?"

"That they are space rocks. Most orbit the Sun in a belt between Mars and Jupiter.

"That some times rogue asteroids become meteors, often called shooting stars, and some even survive to fall to Earth.

"And very rarely larger rocks from space can cause craters like those we see on the moon; the most famous being Canyon Diablo Crater, in the desert of northern Arizona of the United States."

The Professor seemed pleased enough. "Yes Mr Kent that is mostly correct.

"We have in the hills above Metropolis a particularly good observatory, which I have had the privilege of using for the last twenty years.

"And it was as a young man, in those early days that I was observing the night sky; seeking the predicted but as yet undiscovered planet we now call Pluto.

"I saw a bright flash – much by chance I admit, and this flash occurred in outer reaches of the solar system – just in the area of the night sky I happened to be studying.

"I observed this object moving inwards - towards the Sun, before after an hour or so it's light diminished and became lost to me.

"But I was able on the basis of these first observations predict it's trajectory.

"Subsequently I have from time to time, returned to look at that predicted path, hoping to perhaps see the object again – this was highly speculative, but you see Mr Kent, my superiors back in the twenties dismissed my account of this object as at best unverifiable, so this irked me, and perhaps if it had not been, for more than a little pride on my part, I would have forgotten about that unexplained light."

"So Professor I'm guessing the last time you looked you saw this strange object again?"

"Indeed I have, and as it draws closer to Earth, drawn to the Sun in particular, it has begun to develop an odd corona."

"Then it is a comet – if it has a tail?"

"The corona or the tail as you say, that one observes with a comet is not present as I would expect.

"In fact my observations now suggest this object is not only inexplicably accelerating as it approaches Earth, but is in fact not a single object at all, but mass of smaller objects grouped together."

Clark leant forward, thinking there must be a story in this somewhere.

"So is there any possibility of these meteors colliding with Earth, causing damage?"

"It is my opinion given the current course of the swarm, that these asteroids will pass close by earth, that at least on this occasion it will be a near miss."

"So there is a danger of a collision?"

"Yes, these objects appear to follow an orbit around the sun – much like Halley's Comet.

"I am reasonably confident that in seventy years time the swarm will return and impact Earth directly."

Clark swallowed, he felt cold and damp – as if he was sweating. Seventy years he thought. Hardly an immediate threat, unlike Hitler.

"I see, and this will be bad news in the twenty first century I take it?"

If the Professor recognised his implied criticism he let it pass.

"Do you know of the Tunguska Event Mr Kent?"

"No Sir, I have not heard of that, it sounds Russian though."

"Indeed it is. Not many people have heard of the Tunguska Event outside of the Soviet Union's academia. High in the frozen wastes of that isolated region of Russia back in 1908 something catastrophic occurred. Fortunately scholarly channels are often more open, and free, than political ones."

"I assume Professor that this catastrophe was a meteor or comet striking the Earth?"

"Yes. Suffice to say Mr Kent that based on my calculations, should a meteor or comet of size impact Earth – striking say a major population centre, such as Metropolis or London or Berlin, it would based on the damage observed in Siberia, devastate these cities. Like an impossibly large bomb; killing thousands upon thousands of people."

"That, Professor, is a story. However with the very immediate threat of the war in Europe spilling over to include America, I can't imagine a possible danger, however grave, that is still in distant future, being more than a side article, I'm sorry to say."

"I appreciate your frankness Mr Kent, but as I indicated earlier to you, this swarm of objects is not behaving as I would have predicted. Neither in appearance or velocity; and given such unpredictability, I cannot guarantee with certainty that on this occasion these asteroids _will_ pass by the earth."

"You mean a massive impact event might happen this year?"

"It may happen in a matter of weeks Mr Kent."

Clark stood up, he felt a little strange still, but he put this down to his odd dream, and exhausting himself recharging the Spacecraft Matrix.

"Very well Professor, I see why you felt the public should know about this. I'll do my best to sell the story to my Editor. Here's my card. Don't hesitate to contact me at the Paper if you are able to confirm whether we are due a near miss, or direct hit."

Clark and Barnett shook hands, and the reporter bid goodbye and left. As soon as he got out into the fresh air he began to feel himself again.

Hurrying unseen into the cover of trees in the University Park Clark Kent vanished in blur of motion and the Man of Tomorrow took the sky in search of Lois Lane, this was after all a job for Superman.

Yet each location where he expected to find some sign of Lois he could only see the presence of Metropolis Police Department. Taylor was right, the Cops were watching all of them closely.

Perched high above their headquarters Superman picked out McBrodie, watching the Detective, he seemed to be agitated, and sullen, unlike the second man that was his shadow, a cooler customer; in a US Army uniform. The Man of Tomorrow quickly concluded that Lois's main contact in the Metro P.D had being neutralised.

Superman frowned, who would Lois turn to when all her usual friends were being shut down and shut out. If she had tried to contact them she had either failed or had been warned; it was obvious that the smart thing to do would be to turn to someone that no one would suspect.

Better still some one whom Lois had a poor public relationship with, some one who the cops would rule out because they'd think them the least likely person for Star's girl reporter to turn to.

Lois for her part dried her face, after washing the salt of her tears away. She looked younger without her war paint, more vulnerable.

There was a knock on the door; a double rap a tap tap.

"Hi Deedee, thanks for your help." Lois said as she let the actress into her own apartment. De Winters was dressed down, in an dowdy skirt and coat, ever the player upon a stage.

De Winters put the bag of groceries down on the table. "It's okay Lois, after what happened up at that Mansion in the Metropolis Hills, well let's say this is the least I can do."

"I'm glad we kept so much of what went on out of the papers."

"Sure otherwise people might have learned you don't hate me any more."

"Don't you mean – you hate me."

The two women laughed.

"Seriously though Lois, after letting you down..."

"Shut up. After seeing what the Ultra Humanite was capable of, you don't have anything to apologise for.

"Have the cops been around to talk to you yet?"

"Sure they did eventually, came around to the theatre late this morning, but like you said I clearly wasn't high on there list.

"I told the nice officers that while we sure knew each other, it wasn't on friendly terms; and that I'd only seen you to talk to through Clark Kent and then only briefly during the time I was in hiding."

"They buy that story?"

Deedee laughed. "Darrrrling." She purred. "I'm an actress, they think we positively despise each other."

De Winters began rustling around in the grocery bag.

"Coffee?"

Lois put the groceries away as Deedee made the Coffee. She observed "This is like old times already, us together, hiding out, except it's you and not me - and this time we've some fresh groceries."

Deedee laughed. "Awww, that reminds me how Clark must have arrived back to an empty apartment just to find a note saying we'd gone out driving."

Lois laughed. She asked. "How was your date with Clark?"

"Date?"

"Sure he took you to lunch didn't he?"

"You mean the interview?"

"Come on Deedee, we both know you went out to a cosy diner where you told him next to nothing – I read his draft piece before it went to Taylor."

"Well actually I told Clark a lot. He was very understanding – especially about helping Superman out, that's why he wrote the story he did."

"Sure – I can just see him being really understanding."

"Lois - Clark is the sweetest most genuinely nice guy I've ever met. Maybe it's because I spend my time around actors who are all self obsessed, but Clark is like a breath of fresh air, I don't know why you are so hard on him."

"He's infuriating, and pretty sly when it comes to getting a story, and he's well a hate to say it – cowardly."

"Clark? No. He's shy maybe, and doesn't like to get physical - not like that Curly guy for instance, the one that punched him, but he's no coward Lois – he saved my life remember."

"Maybe you've seen a different side of him."

"Maybe you're just been hard on him."

"Well?"

"What?"

"Are you going to see Clark again."

"Lois – get away. It wasn't a date, so I like the guy; I think he's a good friend to have, but I'm not stupid, it's obvious that he's not interested in me."

"Come on Deedee, I find that hard to believe. Why wouldn't he be, unless you don't mean?"

"Oh Lois – you idiot, not that at all – look he's clearly got it bad for you."

"What?"

"You heard me, it's you Clark has a thing for you – poor guy, you don't even know he exists, and he's wrapped up in you."

Lois frowned.

"Ah. Well talking of men. I talked to McBrodie earlier."

"What. Finally. Why didn't you say."

"Because I feel an idiot. I was sure he'd be able to sort this mess out."

"But he won't?"

"Won't. Can't. I don't know. He couldn't talk to me – but he let me know that he thinks I should hand myself in."

"That's what I said at the outset." Deedee replied.

"Okay you did, I was thinking maybe I should do that. Hiding up here isn't going to help me at all, it only makes it appear I'm guilty."

"I could help you – change your appearance, it amazing what a pair of glasses can do, alter the voice, a change of posture, some padding here and there, not to mention make up."

"Thanks Dolores – but being someone else is your job, not mine."

"So you are going to do it?"

"I don't think I've got a choice."

Superman listened to their conversation from outside De Winters apartment. On balance he preferred the idea of Lois being in the care of Metro P.D. It was after all the right thing to do; and it made it easier for him to chase down the real killer knowing Lois was safe in custody, he was certain McBrodie would look after her. He was after all a good cop.

But before he could act he needed to ask Lois specific questions.

"Could you open the window please." He asked, his voice carrying from outside.

"Superman." Lois gasped.

The Man of Steel stepped inside. "Good evening ladies.

"I'm glad you are alive and well Lois, although this is a mess you're in. Tell me what happened."

Lois told him how the double agent Carlton had in fact gunned his partner down.

"That is interesting, it means that this conspiracy runs deep. " Superman stated. "I saw your boyfriend McBrodie with an Army guy in tow."

"McBrodie isn't my boyfriend; but that would explain why he wasn't able to talk to me properly, less alone help."

"So are you going to turn yourself in?" Deedee asked.

Lois looked at Superman, he was frowning. "This double agent you are sure his name was Carlton?" He asked.

"Yes. Jeff Carlton. Frank definitely said that was his name, Why?"

"Because I was over at Metropolis Central earlier, and this Army Agent shadowing McBrodie goes by the name of Jeffrey Carlton."

"You stopped to ask?"

"As I told you before Miss Lane I can see through mostly everything, and hear mostly everything."

Deedee whistled. "Well Lois, I'm sorry I ever doubted your instinct to run; looks like Detective McBrodie _couldn't_ have taken good care of you! No doubt, that's why this Carlton mongrel is hanging around, hoping he can get to you again."

"That's got to be the case." Superman agreed. "Tell me Lois, any thoughts as to why Carlton didn't just shoot you too?"

"I've been thinking about that, the only reason to keep me alive would be because I knew something."

"Being?"

"I saw someone with Martin and Carlton who looked like Reynolds twin brother, in fact he even went by Dr Reynolds. I mentioned him and his connection to the Ultra Humanite, thing is it strikes me now that is was just after I mention 'Ultra', that Carlton flipped out and murdered Frank.

"He then ignores me to go after this." Lois held up the note book. "Dr Reynolds had given this to Frank, and as Carlton rifled his pockets for it, I got the jump on him and planted a good kick in his face.

"Good for you!" Dolores said.

"Look at the lists." Lois continued. "They're sorted by company's – key industry names too, each with a list of people belonging it; I'm guessing these are employees who are fifth columnists or at least sympathisers.

"Most of the names don't mean a thing to me, but this little group of the usual suspects stood out to me." Lois read the names out. "Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley. Four of the biggest Racketeers in town, the only name missing from that list is Matson, and he's in jail."

"That is interesting. We're getting closer to something far reaching and centred in Metropolis." Superman noted. "Okay this is how it's going to work. Deedee is going to dress you down so you don't look like you, and then the both of you are going to check out the names on that list that are associated with the important industries, like Automotive, and Aeronautical, starting with Campbell Scott. I'd say stay here and leave it up to me, but I'm getting to know you well enough to realise that would be pointless, so I might as well know where you are."

"What are you going to do?" Lois asked.

"I thought that would be obvious. I'm going to talk to Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley, that is after I've had a conversation with Lieutenant Carlton."

"Fine." Lois said. "I'll get my coat."

"Not before I've got you a wig and a pair of glasses." Deedee stated.

"Sounds like a plan." Superman chuckled. "Lois give me about twenty minutes, then call the Star, you can tell them that Carlton is the real Killer, I should have this wrapped up by then." Superman said as he exited from the window and into the sky, and blur of red and blue he was gone.

-'S'-

Colonel Samuel Lane wasn't used to dressing in civvies, but desperate times called for desperate measures, the bar was smoke filled and dark, below street level it was reassuringly low profile, low maintenance, and full of low life rent a thugs.

Taylor's trademark cigarette was a like a beacon flashing in the darkness.

"Nice place Stiches."

"Thought you'd like it." Taylor pushed a beer in the Colonels direction. "Here you are Bowler."

"Thanks. Any word about my little girl."

"Not yet. No news is good news. She's probably holed up somewhere trying to work out what to do next."

"I hope you are right Stitches."

"That's what my sources tell me, she ran out of the Hotel down the fire escape before the Cops arrived. What I don't like about that story is that your guy Jeff Carlton reckons she got the jump on him."

"Not my guy, not really. Besides she could have – reason is why would she?"

"What do you know about Carlton?"

"Only knew Frank Martin, this Carlton fella wasn't one of mine; he was from off base and out of state, a shoe in." Lane drank his beer.

Taylor nodded. "So way I see it is if she was so in control, like Carlton reckons - why leave the iron, with her prints all over it? I just smell a rat that's all."

"Definitely." The Colonel spat. " He's selling this shooting to Metro P.D as a crime of passion, like he knew _she_ was involved with Frank – which is garbage, because there wasn't anything between them even when they did date."

"You sure about that?"

"Believe me – I'd know. Why do you think she hates me so much?"

"Okay what do you have?"

"All I know is that Frank was due to have received a shipment of leaflets, pamphlets - propaganda material, he was meant to get a list of contacts from a 'John Doe', these men on the list would in turn distribute this material at their places of work. They were all meant to be men in key industries.

"The material was coming into the docks, but last time I talked to Frank, he didn't know which pier, or where it was going to go, except that it would be warehoused, but unfortunately that doesn't narrow it down much."

"This might be a long shot, but you know the organisation that we linked to the incident at Pegasus Field."

"You mean the group that my girl reckons blew up that Mansion up in the Metropolis hills?"

"The same."

"Well one of my Hounds – Kent, he traced one of their main guys, an enforcer called Reynolds to a warehouse at the docks, where they apparently did business."

"Yeah but surely the Cops will have been all over that place already if it was linked to the drive by shooting?"

"Had no good cause; so no warrant. The lease apparently didn't connect to anyone even like Reynolds – a man who appears not to officially exist.

"As far as the Cops know someone, they think probably Matson hired shooters to waste an actress with dirt on him, and a reporter she was talking too; and as for the Mansion well that was just a big pile of rubble. So in short there was nothing to tie this mysterious Reynolds to Matson, or to anything crooked, they didn't even find his fancy foreign town car."

"Then we need to check out that location your reporter found; see if that's the place Martin was told about, it could be that these two organisations are connected, maybe they are even one and the same."

Taylor finished his drink. "My thoughts exactly."

-'S'-

Superman watched Metropolis Central Police Headquarters. McBrodie was at his desk in the open plan second floor office area set aside for the precinct's Detectives, and as before Carlton was with him. In a blur of motion Superman dashed through the downstairs lobby, his passage causing a blast of wind that whipped up loose papers and toppled officers close to his path.

"What was that? A indoors tornado?" the Desk Sergeant bellowed. His arms prone across the front desk in an attempt to hold down his paper work, but Superman was already upstairs.

Carlton span around, he felt a tap tap on his shoulder.

"Afternoon Lieutenant." Superman said. "I'm that actor in a circus costume. Would you like to come play stunt man with me?"

"Superman – what are you doing here?" McBrodie demanded. Around him he could sense the tension among his colleagues, glancing around he saw cops drawing their guns.

"Tell your friends that the only damage they are going to do with those is to themselves and city property."

Superman grabbed hold Carlton.

"Let that man go!" A commanding voice shouted.

"What do you think Carlton?" Superman asked. "Should I?"

"I think you should back down mister before you invite yourself even more trouble." Carlton snapped.

Superman hoisted the traitor up at arms length, single handedly above his head. "Tell him Detective." He said.

"It's like I said Lieutenant, Superman is for real, and he's bullet proof. If he wants to talk to you there isn't a man in this building that can stop him." McBrodie waved at the other cops. "That goes for you guys too, you're more likely to shoot me than do him any harm."

"You want us to rush him Mac?" A officer asked. McBrodie shook his head. "I'm interested in what the Governor called a superhuman force of justice wants to know."

Superman slowly rose from the ground suspending the stunned man higher in the air. "So tell me Carlton what's your connection to the Ultra Humanite and why did you frame Lois Lane for the murder of Frank Martin?"

"I don't know what your talking about."

Superman tossed the man up like a rag doll. Then span him at speed into whirling circular blur, before seconds later letting him down to his feet. Carlton unsteady and dizzy he stumbled and collapsed overcome by nausea, coughing he almost wretched, shaking he drew his gun.

"Now Carlton, that's not going to work." Superman chided. His eyes flashed red, and the gun super heated.

"Ahh!" Carlton cried out dropping the hot iron. Wide eyed he stared at the Man of Steel. "Your one of them!" He spat.

"No. I'm Superman. And you shot and killed Frank Martin didn't you?"

Superman picked up Carlton's gun and crumpled it like paper in his hand. "Now you've seen me playing Mr Nice guy, maybe you'd like to try what my heavy handed interrogation techniques feel like?"

"Yes, damn it, I'll tell you everything – but I want a deal." Carlton spluttered as Superman handed him the twisted revolver.

"Okay how about this one - you talk and I let you walk out of here with your spine intact and your legs still working."

"Please McBrodie, he's going to kill me."

"I think he's not going to; that's what he said – face it you're just not going to be that lucky bub."

"Stop him?"

"Me and which army?" Mac snapped back.

Carlton whimpered. "Yes I killed Martin."

"I know you did." Superman replied. "Now so does Metro P.D.

"So how about you help yourself some more, and tell us; Dectective McBrodie, and this fine department, all that you know."

"I'm sure your cooperation will go down as a matter of record." Mac said. "That's better than nothing come your court martial."

Carlton stared at the crumpled iron in his hands, he gulped before babbling. "The Ultra Humanite promised to deliver Campbell Scott Plane; but there were problems."

"You bet." Superman said.

"I was ordered by the Air Corps to Pegasus Field, there I teamed me up with Martin.

"That's when Dr Reynolds contacted us, he said he could give us the next best thing."

"Which was?"

"A young man. The fella that designed the Fire Bird. A scientist by the name of Alexander Luthor."

"Who are you working for? Which foreign power? How far up does this go?" McBrodie demanded.

"I don't know who hired us, the usual suspects I suppose. The Consortium deals in secrets, designs, advanced science, whoever wants to pay gets it."

"The Consortium?" The policeman leant closer. "What is that – Who is that?"

"I don't know. We get paid well, and told what we need to know, anything else isn't necessary."

"Come one you can do better than that – you better do better than that if you want to avoid a firing squad!" Mac growled.

"OK. OK. I can give you my contact in New York, the guy that recruited me, and a few other names, but that's it – that's all I know. I swear it... seriously you guys, I don't know any more, look it was just the money, I needed the money I had debts, it was about the money..." Carlton babbled as MacBrodie slapped cuffs on the broken spy.

Superman folded his arms unimpressed by the traitors weasel words. "Detective as it happens I can guess at some of the Consortium, at least who they are in Metropolis: Matson, Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley; and since the Butcher is behind bars, it's just the last four."

Mac looked up at the Man of Steel. "That explains a lot Superman. Those guys were at each other's throats when I started in this job; but the last couple of years I've heard whispers, talk that was getting louder, that they'd begun cooperating more than fighting."

Superman walked over to a window, and effortlessly slid it open. "You've got enough now to call off the hunt for Lois?"

"Yes – we have, but Superman this is complicated, Carlton, these crime bosses, this Consortium conspiracy, espionage, the Feds are going to be all over this. They'll want to talk to you; and I have to say you can't go I need a statement – an interview..."

"Of course you must, but I've got an appointment with Metropolis's Consortium. I'll be in touch Mac."

"Just warning you pal..."

"Thanks Detective." Superman nodded his goodbye, before ignoring the futile cries of McBrodie's less well informed and over enthusiastic colleagues, calling out to him to halt and give himself up; instead, the Man of Tomorrow tore into clouds above Metropolis once more.

-'S'-

Colonel Sam Lane felt comfortable in quasi uniform he and Taylor had adopted, khaki but devoid of patches or insignia; both were armed, a long trench coat helped conceal the hardware they were packing. The warehouse Kent had identified in his story lay ahead, the exterior appearance was one of neglect and unassuming unimportance, just one a series of prefabricated units falling into disrepair during the last decades harsh economic climate.

Entry was easy enough a side door was chained shut and padlocked, but every chain is only as strong as it's weakest link, and bolt cutters made easy work of any of them, the dull metal clink was lost in the night. Lane and Taylor eased there way inside, darkness and silence indicated the unit was unoccupied, switching on their flashlights the two men began to make there way though the large open building, different areas were evident, most defined by whatever had been left their, be it automobiles, or freight boxes stacked in piles. Searching these they approached the pile nearest the main door, the wooden crates seemed newer, and were less dusty and scarred from use.

Taylor used his crowbar and worked open the nearest box. A huge wooden container, he shone his light inside, and pushed away the packaging materials to reveal a huge metal limb.

"What in the world." He hissed.

Lane's light settled on a piece of paper stapled to the box. "Adamantine – that's all it says. Any idea Stitches, you're the word smith?"

"Huh, weird." Taylor whispered. "Adamant means any really hard substance - like diamonds or a metal like steel. As for adamantine... as I remember the Classical writers called anything made of a very hard material adamantine.

"Either way it's not what we are looking for." Taylor eased the wooden lid back into place.

Moving on they chose a second smaller box, but this contained machine parts. After another similar discovery the pair came to a stack of clearly new and identical crates. The Star's Editor prised open the first of these; and this time they were luckier. Packed inside were stacks of printed material; and in the light of their electric torches they could read from the inflammatory titles that this was the propaganda they had been looking for.

"That seals it." Lane said quietly.

"Sure does, this is the place, and this ties the organisation Frank Martin had infiltrated to this mysterious Ultra Humanite and what happened up at Pegasus Field." Taylor agreed in hoarse whisper.

Voices interrupted them. Figures emerged bathed in light from the second floor office unit over at the other end of the warehouse, the two old comrades killed their flashlights.

"Damn it I thought the place was empty!" Lane hissed through his teeth, dropping beside Taylor behind the freight.

"It sure looked like it, must be some hidden room up there. They're had been guys here all along."

Both men crouched out of sight their pistols drawn.

Across the floor and up a level one, of the men said clearly. "Hey you guy's I thought I saw a light coming from over there. Did you fella's see that?"

"I didn't." Someone answered, another voice asked. "Are you sure you saw something Hairy?"

"Positive, and I don't like it. Cover me, I'm going down there."

The main bulbs above them flickered on and bathed the warehouse in a poor light that cast dozens of long shadows. The big mechanic was in street clothes and armed with automatic, he made steady progress towards where the two friends were crouching hidden from sight.

"Hey!" Harry barked. "One of the crates has been prised open!" Then. "And this one too!"

The hidden men didn't need to look up to know more guns were now pointing in their general direction.

"Look – whoever you are, we know you are here; you've chose the wrong joint to turn over. We are armed, and more than happy to pop you so come on out slowly." Harry called out.

Lane look at Taylor, who nodded.

"This is Colonel Lane US Air Corps. You have been found in possession of material likely to incite civil disobedience and rebellion. Lay down your weapons and surrender."

Harry trained his pistol on the sound of the man's voice; his colleagues with the advantage of being on the stairs to the office unit, also followed suit.

"You are surrounded by armed agents of the United States Army." Taylor bellowed. " Give it up boys, it's only going to get a lot harder."

Harry answered by letting rip with his gun, hot lead tore into the wooden transport crates, and paper went flying – fluttering around Taylor and Lane's position. The Colonel returned fire as the Tommy guns opened up from across the warehouse, the signature rat a tat tat a spewing bullets into the packing boxes, sending wooden splinters everywhere.

Harry collapsed felled by Lane's accuracy. Taylor's gun roared it's reply at the men on the stairs, but still a hail of bullets rained in their direction.

"We're pinned down." Taylor spat.

"Time for an equaliser." Lane replied. "Cover me Stitches."

Taylor fired, Lane rolled throwing a grenade with trained accuracy in the direction of the garage area. For a moment the guns went silent as the thugs realised that something unexpected had come their way, then an explosion tore through the parked trucks and cars, igniting the gas in their tanks causing secondary explosions.

Using the chaos to cover their retreat, Taylor and Lane in tandem ran for an exit, taking the side door they had used to come in.

From explosions came fire, which quickly found plenty of flammable material to feed it's growing ferocity.

Once outside gunfire followed the two men's retreat, and though Taylor caught another of the thugs, and Lane took a second one down; the Fifth Columnists forced them back. The thugs emerged from the blazing building; shooting wildly as the did. The two old soldiers retreated under the barrage of automatic fire, and they found themselves pinned between the river and warehouse.

"How many was there?" Taylor gasped.

"Too many, dozen, maybe more, less now, we've almost made it a fair fight." Lane replied, letting off some shots from behind the metal rail container that the two men were using as cover. Across from them the warehouse was fully on fire, with occasional secondary explosions letting rip.

"Well I reckon." Taylor added between shots. "That we're making enough light and noise, the cops should be on the way."

Lane nodded. "Let's hope so Stitches."

Superman paused in his search for the four kingpins of Metropolis underworld, the sound, the smell, and bright light of fire was like an terrible alarm, calling to him from the docklands of Metropolis's River Port. Closing in on the unnatural brightness, a vivid beacon burning in the night scape, his enhanced senses identified the unmistakable sounds of a gunfight. Superman sped towards the conflict and disaster, recognising the location instantly.

The Man of Tomorrow had of course revisited Reynolds Offices and Warehouse since the defeating the Ultra Humanite, and had seen nothing markedly different to his first visit, nothing that had given him pause for thought; besides the machine parts and other legitimate trade goods the building had appeared to have been abandoned. Recent events had meant he had pushed this location to the back of his to do list. Now he realised that this might have been a mistake.

Moments later his eyes settled on the figures engaged in an uneven fire fight, punctuated by explosions from the burning warehouse. The building was a ball of flame and unsalvageable.

The fire fight involved faces he knew, Clark Kent's boss from the Star, and Lois Lane's commanding Father. He didn't know why they were here, but now the Man of Steel had arrived on scene the balance of power had changed decidedly in favour of truth and justice.

Streaking down he flashed past the thugs snatching their guns from their grip breaking them into scrap metal in his bare hands. Lane and Taylor realising to their surprise that the shooting was suddenly over emerged from their position, their guns aimed squarely at the disarmed Fifth Columnists. Superman persuaded the thugs not to run, hauling them back together with a blur of movement and definitive strength.

"Hands up boys, I guarantee the options are simple: You can give in, or you can get shot, or I can spank you; and believe me the getting shot option is actually preferable to my spanking, but if I were you I'd go with the giving up, it's the least messy for all concerned."

"Superman. Thanks for the assistance." Taylor said as the Chief and the Colonel walked across.

"Interesting to see you at work." Lane commented. "You know Stitches I think I should have me sit down talk with this young man, and soon."

A final tremendous explosion ripped through docks as Reynolds's warehouse collapsed, the roof tumbled in, followed moments later by the walls crashing down in the flames.

Superman secured the thugs with a heavy rope, lashing them together in a huge bundle, before joining the Colonel and Taylor.

"If you can watch these men, I have something that I must attend to." He stated.

However behind him in the flames of the collapsed building something stirred. Superman turned immediately perturbed, his 'x-ray' vision piercing the heat and smoke. The shape was familiar to him, from memory he matched the figure to what he had seen and dismissed in the chaos as an unusual statue packaged in a crate.

The figure crashed inhibited through the ferocity of the burning pyre.

"What in the devil is it?" Lane asked.

"One of the Ultra Humanite's creations. It cannot be anything else." Superman answered. "It's nothing like I've seen before however, this is something new."

The automaton was a hollow metal body of a material Superman didn't recognise, and it possessed a single round orifice in it's head, neither really an eye or a mouth, but something in between, set in the centre of his rounded fat head that rested directly onto broad shoulders. A pit of fire that was visible to his eyes through this opening, and yet invisible to his 'x-ray' vision which continue to only reveal a hollow interior bereft of any mechanism.

The infernal machine emerged unscathed from the flames. It's movement was fluid, mercurial. It's metal arms and legs more akin to flesh than the hinged steel limbs of man made machines. Monsters of engineering like the dock cranes that towered above them, these constructs were crude by comparison, pinned together by nuts and bolts, worked by chains and pulleys – this metal man was not like the brutal imaginings of fiction, like a machine a man might forge and assemble, this was something else entirely.

The Demon strode onto the dockside, it single fiery maw rotating. Its round flattened head moved like the turret of tank spinning three hundred degrees, until the burning cyclops eye, the dragons mouth, returned to face out to the river, then the automaton unleashed a single spurt of unnatural fire in the direction of an iron ship moored alongside the harbour wall.

Superman, Taylor and Lane watched in amazement as the metal hull buckled and blackened, twisting under the onslaught from the Demons viscous weapon, until the main body of ship began to burn and it's interior was rocked by internal explosions.

Superman acted, he could do nothing else – the hulking tank like man thing was clearly bent on wanton destruction. The Man of Steel bore down on the demon robot with speed and power, determined to prevent loss of life and further needless destruction of property. Ducking under the river of magma like fire erupting from the gaping maw of the monster, he pummelled the body of the machine just as he had done with stone like Golem soldiers of the Ultra Humanite's House Guard.

Gritting his teeth in desperate intensity, Superman's hammer blows drove the robot slowly backwards, but the Adamantine monster was far tougher than the stone Golem of the Mansion, his pounding reverberated like thunder but for all his massive strength the carcass of the Adamantine resisted him. The torso deforming, becoming blemished by his fists, pockmarked by the rain of blows, but unbroken, and unbowed, the demon robot responded in kind.

The Adamantine smashed a fist downwards, interrupting it's unprovoked attack on the merchant ship, to concentrate on Superman. The Man of Steel avoided the swipe, but the Adamantine's second fist contacted hard; a pile driving blow smashing into the Man of Steel as he ducked away from the first. Superman was propelled backwards, momentarily stunned he smashed into the steel upright support of a dock crane, twisting it and causing the tall structure to shake violently before leaning precariously, broken and dangerous.

Superman shook his head and spat blood. He bit down once more and drove at speed into the Adamantine like a hardened steel torpedo, driving the demon robot back into the flaming remains of the warehouse, there in hell Superman punched the Adamantine time and time again, but it's unknown structure resisted him. Fire erupted around him as the demon robot unleashed it's fearsome weapon, driving Superman back as it's single cannon spat flame and the monster tried to consume the Man of Steel.

Gasping Superman could feel pain as the heat engulfed him, but he drove into the fire, and like hot lava it splashed back at the volcano from whence it came. Returning to hell Superman could feel the metal body deform further under the repeated hammering of his fists. He realised why this had to be, Superman unleashed his energies into a combined attack, heat vision and fists together.

The Adamantine grabbed him, crushing him in its blunt three fingered hands, but Superman just dug harder. It's maw spat flame, but the same flames now washed around them both as they rebounded from Superman's body. Heat energy poured from the Man of Steel. Unnatural Fire from within the Man of Adamantine. Superman concentrated hot light and pounded. Beneath him the Adamantine body began to glow red; and the metal began to soften.

"You might have been forged in the bowls of Hell, but this is my forge now!" The Man of Steel bellowed.

Red hot metal became white hot as Superman's heat vision concentrated on the Adamantine's chest.

Then came the explosion of uncontrolled unnatural fire as Man of Steels hammering punched a hole through the demon robot's armour into the hollow inside, into the magical fire's container.

The Adamantine tried to push Superman away, any thought of crushing him forgotten, but the Man of Steel hung on ripping and tearing at the hot metal. The blast of fire engulfed him and burst forth unchecked from the new orifice Superman had torn in the carcass of the beast. This flame tore out across the harbour. The line of fire tore through the already buckled supports of the twisted dock crane sending it tumbling down into the burning remnants of the warehouse.

Superman realising the huge steel crane was falling, realising the danger this demon robots unnatural fire posed to the fabric of Metropolis, seeing the devastating plume of magna was both uncontrollable and incredibly destructive, he recognised the Adamantine was like an uncapped force of volcanism..

Already pushed to his limits the Man of Tomorrow could not relent, and pushing again, pushing upwards he dragged the demon robot skyward, it's ruptured carcass spilling flame like a fountain of fire arching outwards across the river, boiling the water where the unnatural magma kissed the surface. Wrenching the monster around he aimed the uncontrolled plume of flame sky wards.

Superman continued to race upwards higher into the cold thinning air, the fire pushed back by the rushing atmosphere into a great flaming ball, he and the Adamantine a burning sun in the night sky, then seeing angrily that fire burned unabated, even as the air grew thin and sky black, Superman arched his flight path downwards. Twisting so he and the Adamantine arched towards the dark cold Atlantic ocean.

Hitting the water at immense speed Superman drove the Adamantine head first into the Atlantic, smashing into the sea at this accelerated rate was like hitting concrete, Superman was stunned, shaken he struggled to stay conscious the temperature change was simultaneously overwhelming.

The monster thrashed but it's huge weight dragged it down like an anchor, Superman forced it deeper still, the water boiled around them, and soon the only light he could see was the unnatural furnace the burned within the hollow carcass of the Adamantine.

Deeper and deeper they plunged and as the pressure began to bear down upon him squeezing him tighter than the even monsters massive grip ever could, Superman saw the magical furnace begin to falter, its flames flickering as the sea's cold heart won the war of the elements.

Down the two titans plunged, the salt water the third, battling with them both. Superman finally glimpsed the oceans floor.

He saw the Adamantine sink into the silty ooze, its internal furnace all but extinguished, exhausted from his labours the Man of Steel smiled as he saw the automatons inner light at last flicker and die. Then and only then, when his victory was complete, did he too succumb to the cold all encompassing blackness and unconsciousness.


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's note: **The transverse twin-rotor German Focke-Wulf Fw 61, first flew in 1936, and broke all of the helicopter world records in 1937, demonstrating a flight envelope that had only previously been achieved by the autogyro. Nazi Germany would use helicopters in small numbers during World War II for observation, transport, and medical evacuation.

* * *

Campbell Scott's Metropolis works were situated on the Cities Eastside Industrial Park. Lois Lane fearless girl reporter was back at what she did best.

Taylor had assigned the young Jimmy Oslen to bring back some great shots of 'whatever' and the red headed teen followed Lois like a puppy determined not to lose sight of her, "after all" he had remonstrated, "the last time I let you out of my sight you were involved in a murder."

Lois had laughed at his concern, but she found his good humour infectious, not that she intended on encouraging his crush. Actually this boyish affection made her think about her partner; she wondered about the collection of contradictions that was the mild mannered reporter Clark Kent, who ran from fights and yet dived into the path of bullets. Her cowboy from Kansas was absent from the office that morning, his last assignment had been a safe science piece, but after calling that in had he gone looking for her?

The Plant's Manager was a typical suit, and a cool customer. Lois's direct charm delivered her pitch; the idea of good publicity for the firm secured her a guided tour of the factory; after all she reminded them, their prototype had nearly killed her. This she told the Manager was going to be a positive follow up story to the near disaster that had taken place over at Pegasus Field.

The Eastside Works built Autogyro's. The rotor winged vehicles had been adopted by the big urban centres of New York, Chicago, and Metropolis for fast postal services. The very short take off and landing aircraft were assembled on a production line. Lois had been handed over to a Junior Manager by the name of Robson.

"Call me Rob." Had been his first words. Followed by a good humoured if dry run down of the operation.

"We are making essentially two variants of aircraft here, and then there are modifications to each of those, depending on customer specifications." Robson explained. Continuing.

"The first is our larger vehicle with the conventional propeller situated up front in the puller position; the second variant is a newer design with the pusher propeller at the back, it better for really short take off and landings. Actually that's the approach we are concentrating on for the future."

Jimmy's Camera flashed occasionally, much like his smile and exclamations of "jeepers" and "gosh" unsurprisingly he found the autogyros more exciting in every way than she did.

"So Rob, I was wondering, I believe you have a fella here called Jenkins?" Lois asked part away along the factory floor.

"Larry Jenkins? Yeah, that's the guy who's heading up our in house research division. Like I said we are concentrating on, well it's really vertical take off and landing. Jenkins has been heading up that work.

"How do you know him?"

Lois smiled innocently, she didn't say his name was the top of list of workers in key industry's that were also Fifth Columnist sympathisers. "A friend mentioned him, that she had met him in LA, along with Alexander Luthor."

"Oh, of course you met Lex over at Pegasus, that's a sad business Miss Lane."

"The Fire Birds?"

"Well from a company stand point yes, but personally I was referring to Mr Luthor's nervous breakdown."

Lois nodded. "I was aware he had been taken sick; but I didn't know it was quite as serious as that. Did you know him well?"

"Well enough."

Robson seemed genuinely effected by Luthor's condition. "Were you wanting to take a look at the projects division?" He asked.

"Of course."

"Wow – I wasn't sure you would want too, after all your last adventure with Campbell Scott prototypes wasn't the best of experiences."

Lois laughed. "Thanks for the thinking about me, but honestly that's really the point of this, we can't have Metropolis thinking an important leading aeronautical company is unsuccessful in developing new machines; I hate to have to write something along the lines of 'Campbell Scott content to rest on it's laurels', especially now with the War in Europe worrying so many of our readers."

The younger manager frowned. Lois's words obviously irked him. "Okay Miss Lane, let me talk to the General Manager and I'll see if they'll let us go look at the new bird Jenkins's boys are working on."

A couple of minutes later Rob returned after placing an internal call. "Right when we're done here we can go over the other unit." He smiled. "Have you heard of a helicopter Miss Lane?"

"A helicopter – murder!" Jimmy exclaimed excitedly.

Lois appeared surprised. "I think Jimmy is impressed." She said.

Robson smiled. "Yes I'm familiar with the expression, but first let's finish the tour in the main plant." He said turning to Jimmy. "Then we can go see the helicopter."

Once they had covered the Autogyro's assembly lines, taking in the passenger versions and mail carrying variants; Robson led her and Jimmy outside.

Their guide pointed out the building that housed the special projects division of Campbell Scott Metropolis, and Robson began leading them across, it was a good distance of several hundred yards between the factory and the other industrial unit. A wide strip of pavement separated the two structures which lengthened into an air strip.

"Is this where the Fire Bird was built."

"Some of the earlier work was done here, but the air frames were assembled by the West Coast Division; you can put that in your article if you like." Rob suggested conspiratorially. "We don't deserve the stick we've been getting around town over that particular projects failure."

"Lex Luthor seemed to take it all very personally?"

Rob looked troubled. "He did, but it was his baby, the Interceptor Project I mean, he wanted the next phase to be the Eurasian Bomber – I mean a plane with the range and power to deliver ordinance to the other side of world. From the East Coast to hit as far as Europe, and from the West to reach Asia; and he could have delivered that plane I'm sure."

"Where is he right now?" Lois asked. "Last I knew he was a Pegasus Field with the Army Medics, then he was moved."

"Off the record Miss Lane?"

"Of course, if you feel that's necessary."

" It's a real tragedy what happened to Lex, to he honest he's really lost right now, but that's the thing with genius – it's a fine line between it and madness.

"Thankfully Campbell Scott are a good company; and they are taking good care of him."

"Oh I am pleased. I only met him twice, but in that time I like to think we struck up a friendship. Where is he? Is he being treated for his problems?"

Robson smiled. "A friendship you say? Of course that would be like Lex."

Lois understood the insinuation, she let it pass.

Robson continued. "Yes the Company want him to get better of course, they had him transferred to the Sanderson Chumley Clinic. It's a sanatorium situated in the Metro Hills."

"Yes I've heard of it." Lois noted. "It has a international reputation. I recall from my student days that it is under the auspices of Met. U."

"Your an Alumni of Metropolis University?" Robson asked.

"Sure. Journalism, class of 35."

"Me too – I mean engineering, back in 28"

"Guess I should make an effort to call in to see Dr Luthor." Lois said.

Robson shook his head. "I'm afraid they are not allowing Lex any visitors, but I'm sure when that changes, then a pretty face would be a welcome sight for the poor guy.

"Sorry I didn't mean that to sound fresh."

"Don't worry about it."

He nodded and then gesturing across to where a team of men were at work. "That's Larry Jenkins."

Lois identified the middle aged man, he seemed unremarkable; but then again what had she truly expected? - A goose stepping Nazi!

"And behind them is the Helicopter."

"It looks like an autogyro but with two propellers facing up, instead of one." Lois remarked.

"They are rotors and unlike an autogyro's single rotor both are powered."

"Which means?"

"Well the advantage is this bird can take off vertically and land vertically, whereas an Autogyro can't - at best they can manage a short hop, but the bigger and heavier versions need a longer run, and most importantly the Helicopter can hover in the air; you know hang there without going anywhere."

Lois nodded. She had heard about the Helicopter concept from her father, but it wasn't always best to appear knowledgeable. "So this is a new idea?"

Rob chuckled. "Actually it's an old one, Leonardo da Vinci sketched something like a Helicopter in his notes, and some of the first attempts at aircraft tried to use the principle of powered rotors for lift. Unfortunately the technical problems have taken longer to iron out, but now as Lex would say we have our sky crane.

"Lex Luthor designed this?"

"Dr Luthor worked on the gearing for a brief time." Jenkins interrupted, they had come within earshot of the older man and his team, the engineer introduced himself, Robson in turn introduced Lois, and explained why she and Jimmy were here.

"If you are prepared to wait a little while Miss Lane we are going to run a test flight later, and providing Mr Robson is in agreement, I think you're readers would find it interesting."

"Sounds a good idea." Robson agreed.

Lois looked directly at Larry Jenkins. "Thank you; and I hope in the meantime you would be so kind as to tell me about yourself and your work?"

The man laughed. "Really Miss Lane, I am but a cog in greater machine."

"Mr Jenkins, you are too modest, Mr Robson has told me you are the leader of this project, and as a reporter I can assure you that the Daily Star's readers are always most interested in the human face – as you put it of the greater machine, and that sir I think is clearly you."

Appearing flattered Jenkins said. "Well Miss Lane, if you would excuse me for a little while I will finish up here and then I will do my best to answer your questions, in the meantime I'm sure Mr Robson will be able to organise some refreshments for you and your colleague."

Rob nodded, and Lois watched the traitor Jenkins go back to work.

-'S'-

Taylor relaxed in his office. The older Lane faced him.

"You sure she's not going to come in and rail on us?" The Colonel asked. "You know she hates me calling in here, doesn't want anyone to think I got her the job."

Taylor laughed. "I hired 'Jane Doe'. Not Lois Lane, she sprung that one on me only after she was certain I wouldn't fire her.

"Besides I've got her out at Campbell Scott, she's looking into one of the guys listed here." Taylor held up Dr Reynolds list, before passing it over to Lane. "According to her Superman has been working on locating Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley."

Lane briefly flipped through the note book the Star's Editor had given him, before pocketing it. "Thanks Stitches, I have some fellas itching to get a look at this.

"What about this Superman character? Do you think he managed to defeat that... thing?"

The Chief lit another cigarette. "I think... well I reckon at least we can assume that, if only because it hasn't been back to do more damage."

Lane frowned. "Hope so, because I need to talk to this Superman, what we saw last night... well it was serious fire power; and Superman was able to meet that thing head on."

"Absolutely. I hate to think what would have happened if that machine had made it's way into Metropolis proper, it's destructive power was incredible." Taylor observed.

"It was amazing to see. The city was lucky that it turned on Superman instead, and luckier still Superman was able to stand up to it." Lane paused for a moment. Then he said. "George. Can I talk to you off the record?"

Taylor pulled on his cigarette. He poured a couple of glasses or dark bourbon saying. "Of course Sam." Passing his old friend a drink.

"I've been tasked with putting together a special operation, getting the right men in place by Pa himself."

"General Edwin 'Pa' Watson?"

"The same."

"Then this must come down directly from FDR?"

The Colonel nodded. "Let's just say we've been hearing stories, mainly coming from Jewish refugees, many of them being top flight science men, that the German's are working on a new generation of weapons that they intend to roll out in the next couple of years or so.

"George – it scared the hell out of me; and that was before I saw what that machine was capable of last night."

"What are we talking about?"

"Everything from the crazy occult stuff that the SS are in too - to cutting edge science.

"Truth is, and this is strictly between us - the President received a letter signed by a group of scientist's including Albert Einstein. It talked about the potential for a bomb – a bomb capable of levelling whole city blocks, a single weapon taking out an entire port facility and more in one blast.

"That got passed onto General Watson, and last week he contacted me because I'd been overseeing the Corps cutting edge aeronautics research. He teamed me up with a Major Leslie Grove; a brilliant organiser, and a guy going places - we're calling this group Alsos.

"What's that stand for?"

"It doesn't - it means grove."

"Ah. Yeah sorry, I remember my schooling now, and that's Greek." Taylor noted. "A play on words - on the Major?"

"In a way since Grove has the job of managing the day to day operation, the mechanics of this; and also because the mythological link – something you'll appreciate – seemingly it's to do with the goddess of wisdom, but you'll know about her for sure."

"The sacred grove, sanctuary of Athena, the site of first academy; yeah it makes sense.

"So you're recruiting me?" Taylor gulped his drink.

"Something like that." The colonel replied. "At the moment things are just getting started; maybe later we'll need to requisition your special services; until then you're doing sterling work here at the Star, let's say for now we need as many friends – trusted friends in Metropolis as we can get, Americas leading city has been singled out for unwelcome attention. As we've already seen."

"But this Alsos organisation you've instituted – you need to talk to Superman, to recruit him?"

"Sure thing, we need him. Neither of us are getting any younger; whereas this guy has got something extra special."

Taylor laughed. "Your telling me! Even when we were young Sam we couldn't fly."

"So how do I get hold of this Superman." The Colonel asked directly.

"Your best bet is that new guy I hired, you met him at Pegasus - Clark Kent, he seems to have an angle, a connection with Superman. Maybe he has a way of reaching him."

"Great. Where is Kent?"

"Good question, he hasn't been in all morning, and I have no idea where he is."

-'S'-

Chill winds blew in from the Atlantic as the young boy ran down the beach, bundled up against the cold, his dog ambled ahead of him, bounding with random canine enthusiasm, above the blue sky was broken by high cloud, but the sun was high as it approached its zenith.

The stick hurled once more sent the dog sprinting forward, and colliding into a prostrate figure, partially obscured by weed and sand.

"Mary Mother of God, it's a body." The youth took the stick from his pet and jabbed the cold wet man, before falling back as the seemingly dead groaned into life.

Coughing and spluttering Superman shook himself awake, and smoothly sprang to his feet. Shaking himself, the sand and mud dropped away from him as his biometric field charged surface of skin and the tight fitting costume. He felt recovered, no longer cold and weary, but strong and resolute in the bright sunshine.

"Do you make a habit of poking people?" He asked.

Alarmed the boy sprinted away. Superman appeared directly in front of him as if by magic. "Now son, no need to be afraid. Just tell me how far am I from Metropolis?"

The boy looked left and right weighing up his options, finally he said. "Metropolis, there ain't no where like that about here, unless mister you're meaning that great big place in America?"

"The same. And your accent, you're Irish."

"Bleeding right I am. This here being Ireland, why what did you expect Mister Yank - Shirley bleeding Temple?" The boy tried to dive past.

Superman frowned. He picked up the astonished boy and flew upwards. "Now son, before I leave this emerald isle, a word about your language."

-'S'-

In the Metro Hills a resplendent house nestled in well manicured gardens, and even now late in the year, men were wheeled out by nurses in bright white starched uniforms for a constitutional breath of fresh air. The front door Plaque shone, brightly polished brass, black letters engraved the name Sanderson Chumley Clinic.

A few doors beyond in his private office Dr Reynolds passed a glass of whiskey to a gentlemen seated by the fire.

"Cigar Mr Kingsley?" He suggested, proffering a decorative box full of expensive Cuban tobacco to the large dark haired man.

"Don't mind if I do." The man was expensively dressed, and in a manner that made it clear he was, gold tie pin held back silk, a tailored fashionable suit, expensive Italian shoes. It was a costume as recognisable as Superman's and said this man was a player, a mobster; that he was _that_ Kingsley. "Still no word from the Boss?" He asked.

"Nothing as yet; but I wouldn't let that worry you, he is not bound by normal human concepts like time. Besides the plan has been in place for some time, there is no reason to alter it."

"Forgive me Doctor Reynolds but I am human. So I do worry about doing time."

"We have our operatives in place. What is there to worry about?"

"This Superman. Word on the street is that he's the real deal. No one planned for his arrival."

"What can one man do, even one possessing great strength against what we have planned?"

"Perhaps. We would have preferred the Ultra Humanite to have dealt directly with this Superman."

"I am sure that will happen in due course." Dr Reynolds replied coolly. He lit his own cigar. "Are the others still in Metropolis?"

"The others? I take it you mean our... partners; Mr Cordell, Mr Graney, and Mr Graham?"

"Indeed."

"They have left town. You've already seen to them – right?"

"Yes individually, I made some house calls."

"Well as it happens they have gone on ahead. They are meeting up in LA as we speak."

"A long way away from Metropolis? You realise there is nothing to fear, at least for you and yours personally that is."

Kingsley pulled a face. He did not like the austere doctor talking to him of fear. "There is business to be done with our friends from the East as it happens."

"Of course, the Consortium will benefit greatly I'm sure. All appreciate your work Mr Kingsley."

The Mob boss took a drink. "Well once I am through here I will join them."

"You will miss all the action at home as it happens."

"Frankly Dr Reynolds, I don't like what I think you are insinuating, but for your information I don't want to be in town when... when it happens; I can't imagine why anyone would."

"Of course. You, and your colleagues, I trust you are all aware that, non of you are in danger; as I said the family have nothing to fear.

"Provided you and your 'families' all take the proper precautions."

"That's why I'm here buddy. But just so you know the fact we're safe doesn't mean I want to get caught up in the chaos and the stink, that's not fear – that's just good business." The mobster pointed out using his cigar to emphasise his words. "Besides I take no pleasure in killing, however profitable it proves to be."

"Of course." Dr Reynolds said coolly

"Any way the weather will be better on the East Coast." Kingsley quipped. Adding more coldly. "What of our precious Dr. Luthor?"

"He is recovering, and has become quite malleable."

"Just as long as that means he is going to play ball Doctor." Kingsley growled. Adding.

"Our deal for the Fire Bird would have crashed and burned with the prototype, if I hadn't put my rep on the line!

"Dr Reynolds, we, the Consortium, we were only just able to salvage something from this mess; and like I said I'm personally exposed, my reputation is at stake.

"With the planes wrecked and useless, Dr Luthor is now the merchandise; and my friends and I must, how would you say it; 'communicate to you forcefully' that Dr Luthor has to be ready and cooperative when the time is right.

"We have only one really good opportunity to get him out of Metropolis, and that comes when the cops and what not are up to their necks in trouble, when they are all looking the other way; and once we agree to that meet – we have to deliver him over, or the Consortium is going to look very stupid; and that's not a good thing, not a good thing at all."

"I understand Mr Kingsley – I understand completely." Dr Reynolds looked at his watch. "I regret that I must cut this meeting short.

"I apologise for having to do so, but I must ensure my own professional standards are maintained, and I have business that I must attend to back at Metropolis University."

Kingsley pulled a face. "Damn students can wait on me!"

"Perhaps, but my reputation is for efficiency, and punctuality; and reputation I believe is something you do appreciate Mr Kingsley."

The Mob boss laughed. "Whatever you say Doc. Sooner we are finished here, sooner I get to leave Metropolis."

"Good then let's get this done. Please take off your coat, and roll up your sleeve, it will only take a moment to administer the treatment." Dr Reynolds said. "An then you are free to travel where ever you please."

-'S'-

Lois stood with Jimmy and the Campbell Scott guy Robson, the down draft from the helicopter washed around them.

"That's some machine." Jimmy said with admiration. His camera clicked as he took pictures of the twin rotor aircraft hover above. The airframe was not unlike a plane without proper wings, instead two stubby protrusions, half wings ended in the rotor housings, and struts ran diagonally from under the wing stubs to the body of the helicopter.

Robson spoke loudly over the hum of the machine. "The two rotors rotate in opposite directions, that keeps the helicopter stable in the air, then by altering the angle of the rotor blades the pilot can fly in any direction he chooses, back, forwards, and side to side."

The next few minutes the helicopter demonstrated these manoeuvres, then after it's brief flight the machine eased back to the ground. Jenkins emerged from the craft, evidently pleased, ducking under the wash of the rotors he trundled in the direction of Lois.

"Miss Lane, I am pleased to tell you that went wonderfully well."

"Rob, I'm wondering whether we couldn't offer Miss Lane an opportunity to fly with us."

"Oh I see, you're going back up?"

"Absolutely the recent modifications have noticeably improved the handling characteristics this test was a success in every way, there is no reason not to take the aircraft out along the river course once again."

"Miss Lane has already had one upsetting experience in an aircraft bearing the Campbell Scott name."

"All the more reason for her to experience a properly sorted bird. Our helicopter has had more extensive testing and development than the Fire Birds, also I can personally vouch for it's safety."

"Rob, I'm a Army Air Corps girl, don't worry, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Fine." The Manager conceded. Looking at Jenkins he said. "But Larry, just makes make sure that the worse doesn't happen."

Jenkins laughed. "We haven't had a forced landing yet. Not in my helicopter, any way."

Robson folded his arms seriously. Jenkins beckoned Lois and Jimmy to follow him. "Duck under the wash." He called out.

The rotors had slowed to dull thudding rumble. Jenkins jumped on board before offering his hand to Lois. She hesitated, in the excitement she'd pushed his identification as a fifth columnist to the back of her mind, as she has said, she had grown up in awe of flight, and had for a moment let the wonder of the hovering machine deflect her from her primary purpose. Yet she reflected this man is inviting me on board, he's flying not only with Jimmy and me, but two pilots and an engineer. She reasoned this flight was an opportunity to win his trust and find out more about the man who would betray his country and his friends; more over he wasn't going to pull anything stupid while hundreds of feet in the air – that would be suicide. Taking his hand she allowed him to help her up the step and into the cabin.

Gesturing to her and Jimmy they took seats beside the large windows directly behind the glazed nose of the helicopter. He showed them how to secure the seat belts and passed them both a pair of ear defenders; there was a cable running from these to a jack, and Jenkins plugged this into a socket in their seats.

He flicked a switch. "Can you hear me?"

Lois nodded.

Taylor pointed to arm like protrusion on his head phone come defenders. "Fold this down like this, there is microphone built into this."

"Got you." Lois replied.

Jenkins sat in the seat in front of her, Jimmy sat behind the engineer come navigator, two pilots sat ahead of them on the left and right; making six passengers.

"The helicopter can either carry personal or materials in the body of the vehicle or by using the sky hook assembly in the middle of the air frame it can lift cargo much like a crane." Jenkins explained. He tapped the pilot directly ahead of him on the shoulder and gestured up with his finger, then flicking the switch for the communications he changed channels and talked to the crew briefly. The helicopter rose from the ground with a tremendous hum, the noise filtered out by the ear defenders come headphones.

Switching back Jenkins said. "We'll follow the river out into the estuary to and swing around so you can see Troy State Island, then we'll come around and back to the Eastside. Mr Oslen should be able to get some shots of tall buildings as we return from the starboard side window."

"The engine is sited in the centre above the sky hook where it drives the two rotors via a twin transfer box."

Lois wasn't really interested in the technical details, however the view from the oversized windows was spectacular, and the pilot demonstrated the flexibility of the new type of aircraft as they followed the predetermined flight path. Jimmy clicked away as they travelled out towards the wide salty double estuary that both Metropolis's rivers ended into.

Superman slowed, his transatlantic flight drawing to a close, he'd made up time flying westwards; but the time in the air hadn't brought him any closer to a sound explanation as how he'd ended so far from home, things were far from clear.

He remembered battling the Ultra Humanite's creation, flying to the edge of space to try to quench it's unnatural flame, this course had taken him far from the East Coast and out across the Atlantic, and eventually to the depths of the ocean, but Superman was certain he had not travelled that far; and yet he had awoken on that Irish beach.

He had woken up with no recollection of how he'd arrived there, his last memory had been the cold, black darkness of the ocean's floor and slipping away into unconsciousness.

As Superman approached Metropolis, he pushed these troubles to one side. Now close to home he telescopically inspected the blackened remains of the warehouse, the collapsed crane, and burned out hulk of the merchant ship all destroyed in the previous nights unexpected confrontation. His ears scanned the city for sounds as his eyes searched for sights. An unusual tone attracted his attention and his eyes concentrated on a strange aircraft making its way across the wide estuary in front of Troy State Island.

Moments later the Man of Steel was watching the Helicopter circle around and as he looked closer he recognised the familiar faces of his friends from the Daily Star; then he read the name tags of the Pilots, and the engineers. One name struck immediately – Jenkins. Of course Superman had memorised the list Lois had recovered from Jeff Carlton, and he knew the Jenkins was the Fifth Columnist contact in Campbell Scott, it was an unlikely that given Lois was there – that this was any other than the man in question. However like Lois - Superman took comfort that Jenkins was himself aboard the helicopter, after all sabotaging a vehicle you yourself were flying in would be a crazy thing to do.

Superman however carefully viewed the interior of the craft using his enhanced super vision. Inspecting the mechanics of the helicopter closely. Initially more out of technical curiosity than suspicion, but he did not forget as he looked at the machines inner workings, that the Fire Bird the Ultra Humanite's agent had stolen, had been modified with explosive devices to bring the plane down at Hepheastus's remote command.

Superman followed the aircraft as it swung back towards the Eastside district and the Campbell Scott works; and as he watched the rotors twist and bite the air the port side drive shaft stuttered.

The Man of Tomorrow closed on the helicopter as metal within in the gearbox sheared. He could see alloy grinding against alloy and in seconds the rotor lost drive and locked solid sending a powerful snatch and jerk vibration through the airframe.

Deprived of counter motion while the remaining rotor span on. The Helicopter began to immediately spin out of control dropping towards the river.

Superman dived a flash of blue and red, grabbing hold of the air frame dead centre and underneath, wrenching the vehicle he began arresting the spin, countering the direction of the powered rotor, at the same time lifting the craft higher and away from the foaming estuary waters, as he wrestled it to stability.

Inside the pilots fought to regain control, initially shocked and incapacitated by the sudden violence of the vehicles complete rotation, once the viciousness of the motion was eased, because Superman was there to counter the effect, the Captain managed to kill the main engine. Superman gently brought the craft to a halt in the air, holding it safely in his hands.

Jimmy wretched. Lois fought back the nausea and dizziness, she lent forward to check on Jenkins. He had turned white, his face a wax-like pastiche of panic. She had seen this kind of reaction before, and it was more than motion sickness. She recognised his condition, it was the same look as Deedee had taken when she had suddenly come out of the mind controlled state she had endured under the Ultra Humanite's power. Lois flicked the switches by Jenkins that controlled the intercom.

"What's happening?" She asked.

"I don't understand this we're still airborne!" The Captain shouted into his microphone.

"I'm glad we are!" Lois shouted back.

"We lost the port rotor, it just stopped! We went into a spin, I hadn't any control, then this... We're flying again, except we shouldn't be, we should be in the drink."

Lois could see they were both stable and flying. She popped open her belt, dropped her phones, the craft was silent, the engine dead only the noise of the starboard rotor autorotating as they moved forward.

"Hey!" The Captain shouted at her.

Lois opened the hatch at the back of the cabin it looked down on the sky hook assembly directly behind. Her suspicions were confirmed.

"Hello Lois. What is it with you and flying? You can't seem to take to the air safely – a least without me that is." Superman's voice reverberated clearly into the Helicopter.

"I thought it had to be you!

"Jimmy get a picture of this!" Lois called out to the young snapper. He pulled himself together, still embarrassed for being sick, he did his job non the less.

They were joined by the Captain. "I don't believe it." The pilot said, looking down through the open hatch. "That's the Superman, he's flying, I mean he is flying, him _and_ the helicopter."

"Yes it's incredible isn't it." Lois replied with a wide grin.

"What's wrong with Mr Jenkins?" Jimmy asked. "He seems to have passed out. Do you think he's okay?"

Lois looked into the eyes of the Man of Tomorrow, she guessed he was thinking exactly what she was thinking.

"Captain radio ahead for medical assistance. I suspect Mr Jenkins needs it, tell Eastside Field we'll be there in five minutes or so." Superman instructed. Adding.

"Shut the hatch Lois, and buckle in – all of you, I going to pick up speed, get you all back home sooner than later."

The Campbell Scott pilot look stunned, he mouthed 'five minutes' and shook his head in shock and disbelief.

Lois looked at the Captain nodded, as much to say better believe it. She shut the hatch. Then just as Man of Steel had told them, each retuned to their seats and fixed their belts.

Superman using his 'x-ray' vision observed them through the metal of airframe, and true to his word, once they were secure the Man of Tomorrow accelerated, moments later the helicopter touched down under super-power, Superman lowered the red and yellow helicopter onto the pavement of the Eastside works.

The crew and passengers alighted to the ground. The two pilots carrying Jenkins out the aircraft and towards the Campbell Scott ambulance.

Superman dropped beside them, and took the engineer into his arms and with pace and grace lay the shocked and partially conscious man on the waiting gurney. Looking directly at him Superman spoke softly but in a commanding tone. "Jenkins can you hear me? Tell me what you can remember."

For a moment the man seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Then he fixed his eyes on Superman's "I did things, terrible things." he coughed and convulsed.

"It was me!" he shouted. "It was me!" Then he collapsed back still, gasping. "I don't know why, I'd forgotten, I'd forgotten, why didn't I remember, why did I do those things, why didn't I know I was doing those things..." The engineer murmured.

Superman looked at the medics. "Okay gentlemen Mr Jenkins has clearly suffering from shock. He may need sedating for his own safety." The ambulance men took over and lifted the sickly engineer into their truck.

Lois came over to join the Man of Steel. "Superman he was under the sway of the Ultra Humanite – wasn't he?

"I recognised the look, the panic, the symptoms – from before."

"Apparently so Lois, I imagine he sabotaged the helicopter himself, but even after – what happened in the Metro Hills – he must have been oblivious to what he had been doing, like Deedee, he continued to live his life as normal.

"Then he he wouldn't remember doing the things he had been instructed to do." Lois observed.

"Yes. Jenkins clearly continued to work here while never suspecting that any time his aircraft could fail. He no idea flying with you was dangerous to himself or anyone else.

"That is until the catastrophic failure of the helicopter. That sudden event must have triggered his lost memories, and this sudden mental collapse."

"That makes sense Superman. Remember what I told you, what Ultra Humanite said to Reynolds; that some of the 'conditioned subjects' would 'revert' like Deedee; that some would retain memories of what they'd done, while others wouldn't and worse - that evil man said he expected around twenty percent of his victims would become catatonic, and that they wouldn't get better."

"It's clear to me that even though the Ultra Humanite has gone, the effects of his mind control plot continue."

"Superman did you know Lex Luthor is being treated for a nervous breakdown."

The Man of Tomorrow shook his head. "You think he too is a victim?"

"Possibly, and more importantly what if he and Jenkins are the tip of an iceberg?

"Superman we don't know how many of the people on that list are willing conspirators, or how many are victims - like Jenkins.

"Or how many of those have already suffered mental breakdowns, or perhaps worse still - are like Jenkins; time bombs waiting for an event to trigger their memories, trigger a psychotic episode."

"It strikes me that you and Mr Kent should perhaps look into this." Superman turned to fly away. "I'd start with Lex Luthor, see if there is any connection with him and anyone else being treated for a mental illness." He said adding. "Good bye Lois."

"Wait – when will I see you again?" Lois called out.

Superman hung in the air. "Oh I'm sure you'll see me around." Then in flash of blue and red Superman vanished into open sky.

"Jeepers Miss Lane. He sure makes an impression." Oslen commented.

"That he does Jimmy, that he does."


	31. Chapter 31

Taylor laughed at Lois. "Campbell Scott are not going to let you near anything of theirs ever again, they must have you pegged for a real Jonah!"

"Ha Ha Chief." Lois replied with sarcasm. "Any way again we know that it wasn't a problem with the aircraft - but an act of sabotage.

"Which to be fair puts a completely different complexion on the events." Lois observed. "That's how I'm going to write it."

Taylor nodded. "It's time people woke up to the threat that's facing this country.

"You seen Kent yet?" He asked.

"Sure he's telephoning the Sanderson Chumley Clinic as we speak."

"Well I haven't seen him all day."

"He was waiting for Jimmy and me when we got back from the Eastside."

Taylor with a serious tone said to her. "Lois when he's done on that call send him into me. I need to speak with him." The Chief seemed lost in thought as he lit a cigarette, before looking across at her.

"What's he done wrong Chief – anything I should know about?" Lois asked, direct and inquisitive as ever.

"Nothing wrong as such, but he's not been into the office to speak too; I reckon that's because he's been out and about looking for you, even though I told him not too."

"Sweet of you both; I'm sure, but unnecessary." Lois replied.

"Sure, Superman was there to catch you, again."

"And Jimmy, and another four guys too Chief, and the helicopter."

"Whatever you say Lois."

Miles away in the Metro Hills, Clark Kent walked into the Sanderson Chumley Clinic. There at the front desk, he caught the eye of the receptionist. She was presumably a nurse judging by her starched white uniform, she greeted him.

"Good day Sir. How may I help?"

"I'd like to visit Alexander Luthor."

The young woman checked her records. "I'm sorry sir, but Mr Luthor is not currently receiving visitors."

"I see. That is unfortunate. Do you know when it might be possible to see him?" Clark was scanning the records in front of the nurse matching names and dates of admission to the events at the Ultra Humanite's mansion, also matching the names listed in the clinics book to the list of Fifth Columnists that Lois had taken from Carlton.

The Nurse shook her head. "That will be entirely a matter for Mr Luthor's doctor, and I can't say when that will be." She paused, and opened a second day book. "Are you family?"

"I'm just a friend."

"I'm sorry, but I can't really help you any further." She answered apologetically.

"Perhaps I could speak with Mr Luthor's physician?"

"I don't think that will possible either; since you are not his next of kin."

"Here is my card." Clark replied. "If you could possibly give this to Doctor Reynolds and tell him I would appreciate an opportunity to speak with him."

The nurse seemed surprised by this, but of course he had just read using his super vision the name Dr Reynolds next to Luthor's in the registry. The Nurse looked at his card. "You are reporter? From the Star?"

"I am."

"I see. One moment." The Nurse placed a call. Clark listened with his enhanced senses. She spoke with another woman, a secretary, he heard the name Doctor Reynolds. The secretary said he was out, she mentioned Metropolis University.

Meantime Clark appeared to nonchalantly look around the room, in reality he scanned the clinic. He located an office with a name plate Dr. Reynolds, the room was empty. Beyond that he found Luthor, he was shocked to see the state of the scientist's health. He appeared weak, having lost weight and his long red hair had thinned away into sparse clumps, he lay motionless, Clark assumed he was heavily sedated.

"Doctor Reynolds is not presently in the building, but I will pass on your message Mr. Kent, as soon as he returns."

"Thank you. You have been most helpful. Good day Miss."

Clark exited and strode down the long winding drive until he was out of sight of the clinic and it's staff, then Superman took to the air, his thoughts concentrated on the names he had seen on the clinics registry, some of those he had read did match the list he held in his mind. However more interestingly were the cluster of admissions of various patients coinciding with the downfall of the Ultra Humanite. Superman noted many of these names seemed to be very generic; there were Smith and Jones's even a number of John and Jane Doe's.

Superman in flash of speed entered a lonely window on the face of the Daily Star Building. Moments later Clark Kent emerged from the store cupboard hidden in the back of the Newsroom, behind the bathrooms. Adjusting his tie he walked back to take a seat at his desk. Lois Lane was headed his way.

"Well Cowboy? What did you find?"

"Interestingly they were very cautious, and it's just like Robson said, no visitors are allowed to see Luthor, but I did find out the name of his Doctor; and you won't believe it."

"Spill buster."

"Reynolds, Doctor Reynolds."

Lois slapped her hand down on his shoulder. "Now that is interesting."

"You think it's the same guy you saw with that notebook at the America First Rally?"

"Could be. It's a big coincidence isn't it?" Lois replied. Adding by the way the Chief wants to see you; and that means now!" She made moves to leave.

Clark sighed and turned to her as she walked away "So you are planning to get a car and drive over to the sanatorium to see if you can find this Reynolds?"

"Time and tide wait for no one." Lois snapped back with a smile.

"Not really. I mean don't waste your time – you won't find him at the Clinic." Clark informed her as he walked away. Lois came back after him.

"Why not?"

"Because he's left for the day." Clark replied. "Look let me speak with the Chief, and then I'll tell you where we can both find Doctor Reynolds."

Lane pouted. "Okay buster have it your way, I guess I'll just wait on you!"

Clark knocked on the Editor's office, and entered.

"Kent. No need to sit, this will only take a second. By the way you find anything out?"

"Sure there is Doctor Reynolds attached to the Sanderson Chumley Clinic looking after Alexander Luthor, and he's over at Metropolis University as we speak, if I hustle, I might catch him in town."

"Good.

"Can you contact Superman? I mean are you able to reach him?"

"Well Chief I..."

"Now son I'm not asking you to betray a trust, reveal your sources. Nothing like that, it's just I just have a message from Colonel Lane for Superman."

"I see."

"Basically the Colonel wants to see Superman; and he'd rather that was today – if at all possible. Tell him it's a matter of National Security. I'm sure you appreciate really that's all he should need to know."

"I'll do my best Chief."

"Good – now hustle over and find out whatever you can about this Doctor Reynolds."

Clark caught up with Lois, and filled her in.

"Figures the Sanderson Chumley Clinic is affiliated to Metro. U.'s psychology department." Lois said as she walked away. Clark hurried after her.

A taxi-cab ride across town to the Metropolis University Campus delivered the two reporters at the main entrance.

"The Psychology Department is across the quadrangle along from Human Biology and before the Medical School." Lois stated, taking the lead.

Their strident pace was interrupted. "Clark Kent isn't it?"

"Professor Winton. How are you Sir?" Clark greeted the older man.

"I'm very well Mr Kent.

"However if you are here to see me, then you've only just caught me on my way out. As it happens I'm on my way to the observatory I'm afraid."

"Actually." Lois replied. "We're in a hurry to try and catch Doctor Reynolds over in the Psych Department, if you'd excuse us we must be going." She glared at Clark her violet eyes afire.

"Sorry Professor we've got to go."

"No. No. Kent don't trouble yourself, I understand; but tell you what when you're done here, feel free to come over to the observatory later, I'm hoping to tie down the trajectory of those asteroids tonight.

"Bring your girlfriend too – if you like."

"I'm his Partner not his Girlfriend." Lois called back.

"How bohemian." Muttered the Professor.

Clark laughed to himself and looked back as he hurried after Lois, hand on hat. "Sure thing Professor, if I can make it, I'll come over – Thank you, you are very kind."

Lois made her way into the classically proportioned corridors of the Psychology Department. Clark paused in front of a notice board.

"Come on Kent, no time to sight see."

"Wait Lois is that Dr. Reynolds, I mean the man you saw."

Lois stopped and looked to where Clark was pointing. It was a big display of medium sized photograph portraits of the faculty's staff. There among them was a photograph of Dr. Reynolds.

"Yes that's him. Same guy. Definitely still looks exactly like the other Reynolds too, aside from the glasses and the moustache."

Clark nodded. "Well we know where his office is now, thanks to my sight seeing."

"Okay smarty pants, lead the way." Lois quipped.

Soon they found themselves outside the requisite room. Lois hammered on the door; and hammered some more, before trying the handle, but the door was locked. She kicked the wood in frustration.

"Guess he's out." Kent observed, while looking over the locked office for anything incriminating.

"Yeah looks that way."

"You looking for Doctor Reynolds?" The question came from a young man, a graduate student probably. He was making his own way along the corridor.

"Yes we are. Please do you know where we can find him?" Clark asked.

"Well he'll be back next week."

Lois smiled at the guy. "Oh he's spending time at the Clinic then?"

"No. I'm sorry he won't be there either, he's gone out of town."

"Suddenly?" Lois asked.

"No. Not at all, these days have been blocked in his calender for weeks."

"Oh I see, then perhaps you might know where he's gone."

The young man frowned. "Sorry Miss, I don't know why you need to see Doctor Reynolds, but I only know about his timetable from academic point of view, where he's gone, I don't know; and before you ask - he hasn't left a forwarding number or address; quite the opposite."

"Really?" Clark said.

"Even Doctors – heck especially Doctors need time away from work. Sorry to say you'll just have to wait until he's back. Unless this is some sort of medical emergency?"

"Yes." Lois snapped. "That's it."

"Well in that case you'd have to see Doctor Lewis. Do you need his details?"

"This is who is looking after Doctor Reynolds patients?" Clark asked.

"Yes, if you need him Doctor Lewis is a resident at the Sanderson Chumley Clinic."

"Oh we know where that is." Lois snapped.

"Thank you very much for your help." Clark quickly interjected.

The young man stared a Lois briefly, somewhat bemused by her disappointment, and then left the two reporters and continued about his own business.

"Damn it." Lois said. Leaning back on the wall. Then after a long sigh. "I'm beat, and it's been a long day."

"I guess Reynolds has got away from us, at least until next week." Clark observed.

"Probably."

"Well Cowboy, that's me done for today." Lois made a move to leave.

"I think I'll go see Professor Barnett, take him up on his offer."

"Okay Clark, you go and play with the big telescope; this lady is going to kick off her shoes and have a long cold drink."

-'S'-

Superman landed on the neat lawns of Pegasus field. He was quickly challenged by attentive soldiers.

"I'm here to see Colonel Lane." The Man of Steel replied. He then waited arms crossed, defiant. Behind him the Sun hung low and red in the sky, and Stars and Stripes fluttered atop the central white flag pole. Beside him an armed military police man stood watch, his colleague sought instructions.

Colonel Lane arrived in matter of minutes. "You got my message I take it." The two men shook hands.

Superman nodded. "What is this about sir."

"I hear you had to rescue my daughter again."

"Yes Sir. It appears she has developed a problem when it comes to flying."

"Indeed, but not with you it appears."

"I'm sure she would prefer it if aircraft did not fall out of the sky with her in them."

"Her Editor seems to think she prefers it that way, at least when you are there to catch her."

Superman frowned. "Colonel Lane I can assure Lois is no more deserving of my attention than any one else. In fact while coming here, I averted an auto accident, a mugging and intervened in a domestic dispute. Your daughter is a journalist, her stories are published in a major metropolitan newspaper, people of course associate her with me, but the truth is I'm kept pretty busy most of the time, you just don't always hear about.

"That said, I have warned Miss Lane not to draw attention to my work, and by extension herself, although that does seem to run counter to her instincts."

"She enjoys her work." The Colonel noted.

"Sir – My uniform although very unlike yours in appearance, is equally a statement of a promise, it is my public intention to serve humanity, in this role I cannot afford the distraction of romantic entanglements, and of course I have no desire to endanger anyone but myself."

The Colonel smiled. "I wasn't asking what your intentions were Superman - I mean to say I didn't ask you here to discuss my accident prone daughter - but thank you for your honesty; I appreciate that."

"I was beginning to wonder." Superman chuckled. "Lois does however have a habit of putting herself in harms way."

"Family failing." Lane replied. "There has been Lane's in harms way since the War of Independence." He gestured to the Man of Tomorrow. "If you would follow me son; there are things I'd like to talk to you about in private."

Superman was shown into the main barracks where Lane invited he to sit down, the Man of Steel relaxed in the Colonel's private office. They were joined by third dark haired man.

"Drink?" Lane asked.

Superman shook his head.

"This is Federal Agent Giovanni Zatara." Colonel Lane introduced the third man, he wore a fashionable dark suit and smart shoes. A snappy dresser, he wore a moustache like Clark Gable.

Superman nodded to the officer, he had noted the plain clothes, unseen shoulder holster, and read G-man's hidden badge.

"Zatara is a special agent with the FBI, and currently assigned over to Alsos." Lane explained briefly the mandate he had been given. He then said.

"Agent Zatara was on base today, I invited him to join us."

The Colonel came to the point. "What happened to that thing you fought down at the docks?"

"I left it a the bottom of Atlantic. It won't be troubling us any more."

Lane lent back and frowned.

"George Taylor, the Editor of the Daily Star – who know him?"

"I know who he is – yes?"

"Well we go back a long way, he's on notice and is de-facto member of Alsos, as of last night.

"George has filled me in about the unprintable parts of your encounter with an individual who called himself the Ultra Humanite."

Superman nodded. "Much of what happened was fantastic; but equally true."

"That I do not doubt.

"Superman we know this madman was connected to this Consortium, and that this group is selling out America to the highest bidder."

"To my best knowledge Ultra Humanite's was destroyed in a explosion of his own making; as for the Consortium - I'm working on that problem.

"And in the meantime I have information for you."

"Yes, what is it?"

"You know of the Sanderson Chumley Clinic?"

"In the Metro Hills?"

"The same. It is being used to cover up the consequences of the mind control used by the Ultra Humanite's organisation. I have learned that they admitted numerous patients immediately after the failure of his device. Among them is Alexander Luthor, who I suspect is a victim also in some way."

"Campbell Scott sent him to that clinic in good faith, as did I." Lane responded. "Are you certain."

"The Doctor in charge of Luthor's treatment matches the description of the Enforcer also called Reynolds who worked for the Ultra Humanite. His brother perhaps, I don't know yet. However certain names registered at the Clinic also match those on the Carlton List – others appear to be fabricated to hide the individuals real identities."

Zantana stood up. "Colonel, we must act immediately – with your permission I will set the ball rolling; we need to properly assess the condition of these people, they may still be able to tell us a great deal – we could crack the Consortium open!"

"Of course." Lane agreed. Gio stepped out to make a phone call.

"Thank you Superman." The Colonel stepped forward. "You see what we can achieve working together?"

"Yes I do, but my abilities mean I do work best alone; putting it bluntly, I don't know of anyone who can keep up with me."

Lane relaxed sitting on the edge of his desk."Superman, I appreciate your efforts. However today I represent the President of the United States, specifically I have been tasked with recruiting individuals with unique skills."

"Respectfully Colonel I think I can serve truth and justice; the American way, more effectively as a free agent, than as a servant of the US Army."

"Son, there is an ill wind blowing. War is coming. Right now the British and the French are in it, some people are calling this a phoney war.

"The truth is no one wants a repeat of the carnage that was the trenches; but Superman we both know there are new sciences, devices of evil out there, that will change the face warfare forever. When the war begins in earnest – as it must, this will be a different battle."

Lane poured himself a drink and sat down again. He continued saying.

"Earlier I was speaking with Professor Leó Szilárd of Columbia University, he and Professor Albert Einstein wrote to the President about the dangers of a new branch of Physics, the reaction they are calling nuclear fission."

"I am aware of the developing science Sir. In Germany two chemists Hahn and Strassmann report detecting barium after bombarding uranium with neutrons, this has been identified as fission by the German exile Otto Frisch, who was able to repeat this experiment back in January."

Lane registered surprise. Superman answered his unspoken question. "I read. A lot. Scientific publications particular, among other things." Superman smiled; adding. "I don't really need to sleep, well not most of the time anyway."

The Colonel coughed. "Clearly among Physicists, especially those fleeing the conflict in Europe, there is a very really concern that possibility a weapon - a bomb will be created based on this nuclear reaction."

"I imagine chiefly that Germany, that Hitler has an advantage at this time."

Agent Zatara returned, he sat down. "A search warrant should be issued within the hour." he said.

Lane nodded his approval. Saying.

"Superman our primary concern is the advantage the Germans have in many fields of science.

"Frankly what I witnessed down at the docks, the thing you battled to a stand still, is just further confirmation of intelligence that until recently we would have dismissed as fantasy.

"Simply there exists branches of invention that our government knows precious little about, and since I was tasked with this role I learned a great deal, and yet the more I learn, the more I realise we barely understand these things."

Gio made his presence felt. "Hitler is occultist." He said plainly.

Lane gestured to the dark suited man. "Gio is an expert in these matters Superman. He approached me shortly after your appearance here a Pegasus field."

The Special Agent explained. "I actually wanted to contact you Superman. I have felt the need to apply my own peculiar talents, that is my knowledge of these matters to the betterment of Humanity, and your public war on crime has galvanised me into action."

"Thank you, but as a Federal Agent I'm sure you are already serving the greater good."

"You would be surprised Superman, not everybody is as brave as you, living with abilities publicly and unashamedly."

Superman laughed lightly. "I have my private moments."

Gio nodded. "I would hope so.

"Superman you may not know, but the Nazi party is connected at its root to the Germanic occult Thule Society, and is steeped in mysticism."

"I didn't know that."

Zatara nodded. "Superman I'll put this plainly. I have inherited certain abilities. One of my skills is the detection of exotic energy - magic in layman's terms. At Colonel Lanes request I visited both the collapsed mansion in the Metro hills, and where your docklands battle took place. I was able to detect residual magical energy at both locations."

"The Ultra Humanite claimed to have united science and magic." Superman stated. "The machine I just fought was one of his creations, and at the mansion there were others, less poweful, but no less strange."

Colonel Lane spoke. "It is this bizarre marriage of science and the occult that terrifies me the most. Hitler, and Himmler's SS pay more than lip service to pagan mythology, they clearly believe that uniting science and magic will give them a winning advantage."

Gio agreed saying. "The Germans have also sent expeditions around the world seeking mythological and fabled objects of power and antiquity.

"For example in 38 Himmler ordered an expedition to Tibet to seek for evidence of Atlantis – evidence of survivors of the fabled kingdom."

Lane nodded and said. "And another similar expedition was sent to Antarctica last year; commanded by Albert Richter - a veteran of cold-weather intelligence suggest the Germans were seeking Atlantean artefacts – I know it's sounds crazy, but there it is. The Germans have a base in the region they call New Swabia, ostensibly it's a whaling operation, but intelligence suggests otherwise."

"Incredible, and troubling. I have no doubt the Ultra Humanite was trading with the Nazis - exchanging technology for artefacts." Superman said.

"At the Bureau we have been investigating acts of espionage, sabotage, and organised crime." Zatara said. "I have personally being cataloguing occasions that specifically involve mysterious and unexplained events which are connected to criminal activity.

"You Superman fell into that unexplained category; but thankfully you are on the side of the angels, and not the villains.

"However the trade in objects of occult significance is rife, and often disguised as innocent interest in works of art and antiques; but criminal gangs are being coopted to steal to order, taking objects from private individuals and public collections.

"When the Nazi's annexed Austria, Hitler himself stole the famous Hofburg spear from Vienna, more often called the Spear of Destiny. Of course this has long been believed to be the Roman weapon that pierced the side of Christ on the cross.

"Hitler now keeps this relic with him in Berlin; but this is just one example of Nazi crimes. Wherever they can they seize of works of art, artefacts searching always for occult power."

"It would seem the Ultra Humanite was not alone in his interests." Superman observed.

Zatara agreed. "Yes, and it is fast becoming a race between individuals and nations to obtain technology on the on hand and discover ancient objects of poweron the other - to bring these together to make scientific breakthroughs.

"Superman." Lane banged his hand against his palm. "Time is running short, and the world is descending into all out war, a war our enemies are fully committed to winning, while America argues the rights and wrongs of simply assisting other democratic governments resist fascism."

Lane leant forward. "This is central idea of Alsos is to legally acquire technology, and so gain an advantage over our enemies in whatever field that many be, and where necessary undertake clandestine operations – espionage to ensure the security of the United States, in the face of enemies at home and abroad."

"Sir my guiding principals are truth and justice, democracy and personal freedom - the American way. I am not inclined to skulk in shadows, as you see I am a man of action."

"You _are_ a man of action Superman, that is why I am appealing to your loyalty to your country and wider democratic world."

Superman thought of Tom Kent buried in French soil along with thousands of men from around the globe. He considered the arguments of Charles Lindbergh and of America First. He remembered the silent argument that the Adamantine had made so forcibly and devastatingly from single fiery orifice.

"I assure Colonel that when the going gets rough - you can count on me.

"As for whether I am able to join you and agent Zatara in Alsos; that is something I must reflect upon - but rest assured when America needs me - I am here for my country and democracy."

The Colonel frowned. Lane was clearly wanting him to sign up - to enlist in Alsos, but the older man accepted Superman's at his word, at least for now. "In future how am I to contact you?" Lane asked.

"I have put my trust in Clark Kent. He has a means of contacting me."

"Forgive me Superman if I am a little sceptical, having met Mr Kent; and also what if, like earlier today, he is unavailable – what then?"

Superman stood up his cape fell about him. "Again Colonel, I shall give that problem careful consideration. As it happens I have an idea which may solve that problem; but for now I must move on and upward.

"Agent Zatara, it has been interesting to meet you.

"Colonel Lane, I am sure we will talk again shortly."

Superman bid the men goodbye and moments later leapt into the darkening sky above Pegasus Field.

-'S'-

Little Bohemia was the seedy side of the Village, the haunt of musicians and artists. It was here not far from the Stanwix Hotel, where the Butcher Matson had run a criminal empire that Doctor Reynolds chose as his destination. He exited from a yellow Metro-Cab. He was, despite saying otherwise, still in Metropolis.

Medical bag in hand he wandered into the Free Clinic run under the charitable auspices of the Metropolis Windows and Orphans fund.

"Good evening. My name is Doctor Tyrian." He lied. "I believe you are expecting me."

The older woman whom he addressed wore a grey and tired nurses uniform. "Yes Doctor Tyrian, you are volunteering for us this evening?"

"That is correct, just doing my bit." Reynolds said.

"Wonderful, any help here is much appreciated." The nurse led he through to the consulting room.

She indicated that he should make himself comfortable. "Most of the conditions you will see are those common among the poor." Opening a cupboard she said. "In here you will find basic medicines and the industrial container of talcum powder, which is our favourite weapon."

"Baby powder?"

"It hides the stale smells of our unwashed patients." She explained apologetically. "Some that come here are homeless, many of them have homes, but just don't wash."

"I see. Anything else I should know?"

"Not really, I assume you are prepared to deal with working girls and their particular problems."

"Thank you Nurse. Perhaps you could organise me some coffee."

The older woman raised her brow. "Since it is your first time with us, I shall see what I can do, although most of our volunteers bring a flask."

"Thank you, that is most kind." Reynolds said with a false smile.

Once she had gone he arranged the contents of his case. He had not long to wait before his first patient presented himself.

"I'm a Lunger boss, can't get my breath." He wheezed using the slang for tuberculosis like conditions.

Reynolds listened briefly to his chest, his breath stank of hard liquor. "There is excellent new treatment for your condition." He said, picking up a pre-prepared hyperdermic stringe.

"I don't like needles Doc."

"Then my good fellow – just look the other way."

Reluctantly the man acquiesced, and Reynolds injected him swiftly.

The drunk complained, but then almost immediately he felt improved. "Hey that's amazing. What is that stuff?"

"Vitamins, minerals, little opiate, and active contagion."

"Hey I don't know what you mean by any of that, but thanks for the needle work."

"Thank you my friend, you are going be a great help to me I'm sure."

Reynolds showed the man out and the next patient came in. A cursory examination of the young woman followed; then directly the fictitious Doctor Tyrian said to her. "There is excellent new treatment for your condition."

Reynolds injected her, and the next patient received the same cocktail, and so it went on, the same method repeated for each case, regardless of need, each man, woman, and child he saw that night he injected with the same agent. Initially each felt elated and left the clinic happy, but it was a false sense of well being, and one that could not last.

-'S'-

Clark wound his auto up the twisting road towards the Metropolis Observatory high in the Metro Hills. He could have taken a more direct route, but then again there wasn't any point in arriving before it was truly dark, and besides he enjoyed the drive, the time to think, the time to himself.

Clark could have dwelt on the costs of his choices, every time Superman was not over flying Metropolis some accident, some crime could happen; but the Kent's had raised a practical son, he understood the cycle of life, things suffered and died regardless of his best efforts; the dust bowl had taught him that great power had limits; moreover he knew he needed time to himself just as much as any man, he might be super twenty four seven, but he was also a man twenty four seven too.

The criss-crossing hair pin bends of the climb finally gave way to the gentle slope of the hill top and the site of the Observatory. Parking Clark made his way inside.

Winton appeared genuinely pleased to see him. "Mr Kent. May I call you Clark."

"Yes sir, Clark is fine."

"Then Clark it is, call me Barnett,"

Clark began by apologising. "Actually Professor,.. Barnett I have to say sorry for my abruptness earlier and that of my partner, we were chasing a potential story."

"I understand. Honestly I thought that a straightforward no nonsense manner was one of the necessary skills in your job."

Barnet gestured across to the other side of him. " Say Clark; can I offer you a coffee?

"If that's one thing we astronomers learn to cook it's coffee." Barnet had a stove in the large open laboratory, the unmistakable aroma of a fresh brew wafted across the big room.

"Thank you, yes that would be great." Clark took the stained mug from the older man. As he liberally added cream and sugar the Professor offered, he continued. "And I'm also sorry that was rather abrupt the first time we met, as well."

Barnett chuckled. "I just took you at face value, that you were a hard nosed reporter, interested in stories that would sell a newspapers to the man of the street."

"Well sir, that might be true in the Newspaper business; but in this case I was troubled. My partner, Miss Lane, you saw her briefly earlier at the University, well she was wrongfully accused of a murder, and you see when I came to interview you I was somewhat preoccupied."

"Ah. Understandably she is attractive woman."

Clark coughed. "But that's all resolved and the Police have the real murderer in custody."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that.

"Why, you reporters _do_ live interesting lives!

"But rest assured young man I took no offence then or just now." Winton adjusted his glasses and consulted his notes. "Now if you would like to take a seat over by the telescope, I will open the observatory dome and align the telescope along the projected trajectory of the meteor swarm.

Clark sipped his coffee. He scanned the heavens with his enhanced vision abilities, noting the alignment of the Professors instruments, he was shocked to locate the asteroids, closer to Earth than he had imagined, and far brighter than he had expected.

Barnett having completed the process of opening the dome and aligning the telescope began by viewing the appropriate sector of the night sky.

Minutes passed and he seemed to come to similar conclusions. "Here take a look Clark; things are not as I expected."

Kent pressed his eye to the lens and observed the finer detail. In his minds eye he began to assemble the broken pieces he observed, and too his surprise he imagined the original form that the pieces like puzzle could be joined together to recreate, and it was smooth a flattened egg shaped object.

He sat back perturbed.

Barnett interpreted his frown. "Amazing Clark isn't it?

"Did you see phosphorescence – the luminosity, it's far greater than it was, and growing all the more so as the objects approach the Sun - they grow ever brighter and travel ever faster.

"It is like nothing I have ever observed. Soon this phenomena will be observable to the naked eye."

"Yes sir, but the important question remains, will the objects strike the Earth? Will this be another disaster like you described in Siberia?"

The Professor looked at his calculations, and chewed his pencil. "Yes and no.

"I think the larger body of objects, the bigger pieces of asteroid – these will pass us by, but there are smaller fragments, many of which are far more dispersed in a wider field around the main swarm – well these may be pulled in by Earth's gravity."

"Clark glanced at the Professor's figures, and then double checked the meteor swarms position. "You calculations are correct Professor; I am certain some of the smaller meteoroids will impact the atmosphere, whether they are large enough to make landfall, that I don't know."

"Really Mr Kent! You are able to confirm my calculations?" The Professor was incredulous.

Clark briefly outlined what he had observed and calculated. Barnett Winton was impressed.

"You are dark horse Clark, your grasp of maths exceeds my students. Quite why you choose to be a reporter bemuses me, but who am I to judge.

"And yes - I am certain some of the meteoroids will undoubtedly fall to Earth." Barnett chewed his pencil, losing himself in deep thought.

"Indeed have fallen to earth." He mumbled whispering to himself. "Hopefully none of these fragments are not massive enough to cause any harm. Not again at least.

"Maybe a light show in the nights sky; that again certainly - a minor craters here and there perhaps.

"But then again this material is so strange and so very dense..."

"Pardon professor." Clark began, deciphering the Professor's mumbled whispers well enough. "But you almost speak if you have found a sample of this material."

Barnett looked back at him completely surprised. "Ah. I perhaps have forgotten myself!" He gasped. " And I have said too much." He bit his pencil again; thinking. He seemed to come to a decision.

"More coffee?" He asked walking across to the stove to fetch the bubbling pot.

"Yes I think I better." Clark replied.

Barnett topped up Kent's and his own mug. Saying. "Clark I know you are reporter, and that means your job is to report the news; but you also strike me as being both intelligent and reasonable; traits I had not expected.

"Can I ask you to keep what I about to tell you secret, how do you reporters say,.."

"You mean speak to me off the record?"

"Yes – exactly that."

"Okay Professor, you have my word. What's all this about?"

"Last year I organised and led an expedition to Mongolia."

"Why was that?"

"I had observed a very unusual meteoroid on an impact course; I had good reason to believe it to be a rogue – a fragment of the larger swarm we have just been observing.

"Somehow this piece became separated from it's brethren, and was now further ahead of the the main body of asteroids.

"I couldn't be certain this was case – not at first; it's behaviour was odd, it's high visibility, the fact I could observe it was due to it's luminosity."

Clark nodded. "But now you know that this was because the object was closer to the Sun than the other similar more distant objects."

"Exactly!"

"And you believed Mongolia was where the object would impact?"

"Yes I had a good idea of the general region, and was able to refine my calculations in the field as the meteoroid approached.

"I was camped in the company of local guides and porters in the heart of Mongolia close to the Khentii Mountains, when I sighted a tremendous heavenly display. The night sky became like the day and the natives were terrified, as I was fascinated.

"Next day they came to me with a fantastic tale. Doom had fallen from the skies, blotting out an entire village. Naturally I was determined to investigate.

"And with regret I discovered it was not an idle tale, my suspicions had proved correct, and I witnessed a crater had indeed been created close to the village killing animals and destroying houses."

"Was anyone killed?"

"My guides were not sure, the population had clearly fled in terror, abandoning the place."

"What surprised me initially was size of the impact crater, it was larger than my estimates given the boulder sized object I had observed in space. Never the less I dug deep into the ground and I was with the help of my guides I able to locate and extract the Meteorite."

"Barnett, correct me if I'm wrong but Meteoroid should have insufficient mass to survive the heat of entry into the atmosphere."

"Unless it is very dense, and that is the case with Meteorite that I found, it is a very dense metallic composite.

"I brought this back with me to the United States; and began to investigate it's properties with the intent of publishing my conclusions in due course, but I soon discovered this metal was unlike any found on Earth. It was a new element."

"Gosh that is incredible."

"Since I discovered the Meteorite in sight of Khentii range, close to the scared Burkhan Khaldun Mountain of Genghis Khan, I decided to christen this strange element, for the time being at least; K-Metal."

"And you are convinced it is the same material as the swarm in space."

"Absolutely. My instruments have recorded strange emanations coming from this celestial visitor, I found this radiation grew in intensity when exposed to direct sunlight; much like the meteor swarm's luminosity increases as it approaches the Sun.

"Clark this is other oddity, as the main body of the swarm approaches Earth, so the radiation coming from the meteorite increases, regardless of sunlight.

"Since detecting these strange emanations I have kept the Meteorite in a lead shielded box."

"Where is this strange metal now sir?"

"Why I have it here. I brought it with me from the University; I thought it safer to store it here.

"You say it was with you before in the university?" Clark remembered feeling unwell when he had first visited the Professor, could the radiation from the meteorite be to blame?

"Yes but now it is here? Would you care to see it?"

"I think I would."

Before Clark's surprised eyes the Professor wheeled out a great metal container, Kent observed not the for the first time that lead lining the metal box, obscured it's contents from his vision powers.

Barnett lifted the lid. "See how it glows with a penetrating green brilliance, strangely enough it was dull unless exposed to sunlight, until that is the swarm of asteroids approached Earth, and then came this new lustre."

Clark staggered and grasped the nearby desk, the strange weakness that he had felt on his earlier visit to the Professor's offices in Metropolis came over him once more, he concluded unavoidably that this strange K-Metal was the cause both then and now. He turned his vision powers onto the strange material, catching glimpses of its complex structure before he eyesight began to fail him.

As for Barnett he seemed affected in completely different way, his bearing changed and he became excited. "And see Clark what strange powers this alien metal imparts!"

Almost pushing the younger man aside, Barnett grabs the desk by one of its legs, touching the glowing Meteorite he effortlessly lifted the large hardwood Partners Desk above his head.

"See even though I am a feeble old man, when I touch this metal suddenly I find myself possessed of tremendous strength and vitality. Even it's aura gives me a sense of well being, isn't this just incredible.

"Come Clark." Barnett laughed lowering the desk, he took Kent's arm and dragged him towards the glowing meteorite.

"Hesitantly Clark reached toward the baleful green metal – half fearfully, half determined to manly overcome the nausea he felt, sensing strange attractions and repulsions within him to the enchanting silver green metal. It was though he were on the threshold of some fearsome personal journey of discovery

"What is the matter Clark, can't you feel the wonder of this metal?" Barnett asked wide eyed, it was like he was on something.

"Your hipped out." Clark gasped.

"I'm high on life!" Barnett responded, he pushes Kent's hand down so that Clark's fingers touch the meteorite, and sharp agony twists through the reporters form, a sudden cry escapes his lips and then Clark drops into unconsciousness, by the Professor's feet.

"My word!" Winton exclaimed shocked at this unexpected outcome. His excitement tempered by Clark's collapse, he reacted by closing the lead lined lid to the Meteorites container. Then kneeling beside the young man he began to try and revive him.

"Speak to me man!"

Clark groaned, and began to come around.

"Are you all right?"

"A trifle dizzy." Clark coughed, he felt nauseas and weak. "But I'm sure it will pass." Kent dabbed the damp cold sweats from his face with his handkerchief.

Barnett helped the younger man to his feet.

"I can't understand it? The metal imparted to me a sensation of amazing well being yet when you touched it, it seemed to rob you of all your strength. Both interesting and puzzling. Clearly the metal effects different people in different ways."

"It would seem that is the case." Clark agreed leaning once more on the heavy desk. "Have you shown this peculiarity to anyone else."

Barnett appeared embarrassed. "Truthfully I have hidden most of my discoveries from my colleagues, the more fabulous I realised this metal was, the more afraid I became of ridicule; _and_ the more determined I became to fully understand it's powers before publishing my findings.

"I suppose the bitter experience of my youth, when my peers rejected my observations, has coloured my expectations, and fuelled my fears.

"All the more so when I realised that this meteorite is connected in some unknown – inexplicable - way with it's kind still in space."

Clark stood up. He felt more himself. "I see why you perhaps chose to confide in me, rather than your peers at the university.

"I am someone outside of your academic circle; and someone used to dealing with the more fantastic and unbelievable aspects of life, as a reporter often must.

"I guess I was the right man at the right time."

"Yes, I am sure that's it Clark. You seemed I man I could trust.

"This secret has been eating away at my conscience; I have begun to fear what will happen if other samples of this strange alien substance fall to Earth, and fall into the hands of unscrupulous men, the enemies of democracy."

Clark nodded, the same concerns troubled him, beside other more personal questions. He looked at the old man directly. "I must warn you Barnett, I noticed that this alien metal also seemed to effect you mentally as well as physically."

Winton swallowed. "Yes Clark I am ashamed to say I have noticed the increasingly euphoric feelings I have been enjoying when I am exposed to the green light of the meteorite.

"I fear it is effecting your judgement."

Barnet nodded grimly. "Then until the main swarm passes I will avoid exposure, perhaps once it has passed the emanations from the meteorite will lessen, and it will return to it's original dull state."

"Yes that would seem logical." Clark agreed. "Thank you for trusting me sir."

The older man nodded.

"It grows late Professor I think I should return home."

"Very well Clark. I believe I can rely on your discretion."

Kent nodded. "And visa-versa. As you say there are enemies of democracy, both abroad and at home.

"Of course, I shall write a piece indicating say... that we can expect a display of shooting stars - and perhaps even some meteors, but I shall not reveal the secret of this K-Metal."

Barnett shook his hand. Their compact was made. Both men agreed to trust each other. "Thank you Clark, and Goodnight my boy, safe journey."

Clark said his good bye, and left the Observatory and got into his car; but his mind remained alive with questions, the most pressing being what was the origin of this strange metal, he mulled over the probabilities and as he descended down the winding road away from the hill top, only one answer seemed clear to him.

Clark pulled over. Leaving this car behind Superman flew towards his Secret Citadel, conscious that his strength was still depleted, and he found himself falling to earth, almost haphazardly like he were a clumsy teenager leaping around Kansas once more.

Inside his fortress Superman approached the globe that had brought him to earth. Above it he had created a highly polished mirrored shaft that reached out of the mountain a glass dome allowed sunlight to be funnelled directly into the main chamber and onto the globe itself.

"Father." Superman spoke to the artificial intelligence that was the essence of his long dead parents minds.

"Yes Kal-El. What troubles you. Your life signs indicate that you have been under great stress." Jor-El's image appeared before Superman.

"I have been exposed to alien metal; one which I was barely able to observe, having a unique crystalline almost cellular structure. It's emanations seemed to steal away my strength."

"That should not be possible my darling." His mother spoke, her form materialised before him. "The metal you describe must do more than draw your strength from you – absorb your vitality; it must at the same time interfere with the unique structures within your cells that multiply the energy you obtain from sunlight."

Jor-El addressed his son. "Tell me Kal-El everything you know."

Superman explained the origin of the asteroids, how they now approached Earth, how they appeared to react to sunlight, even how Barnett had been affected positively and he negatively.

"Father I reconstructed in my minds eye the shape of the original planetoid that broke up to form the swarm. From the observable pieces my best guess was it resembled a flattened egg shape.

"The smooth sides of the larger pieces did not suggest a random naturally occurring rocky fragment, but something smooth and artificial.

"What is more this phenomena was first sighted as a bright light almost twenty years ago passing the outer planets and travelling towards the Sun, that coincides too closely to my own arrival as you described at the edge of this Solar System."

"You are correct Kal-El in you conclusion. The main body of your ship did resemble the shape you describe.

The basic design was Class Four Kyrptonian Space Cruiser. I used this as the basis for the vessel that transported you and this inner matrix between the many universes and our point of origin that was Krypton.

"As you know this vessel did break into many fragments, and in all likelihood it is this broken ship that now approaches Earth."

"Darling. The Ship we constructed was built from the very fabric of Krypton itself. The Artificial world that was our home, it's unique structure was in a real sense a living thing, designed to draw energy from its environment, principally the higher frequencies of sun light, but equally any source of energy when necessary.

"As I explained the 'God-Wave' event compromised and mutated the Kyrptonium metal of your ship, it now not only absorbs energy, as was it's design – but clearly the living metal now draws energy from you, since you are in simple terms, a living solar battery.

Jor-El agreed. "It is also apparent this material radiates that energy back in another form, one which effects the simpler human biology differently from your own."

"Darling in short this Kryptonite is poison to you, judging from the readings this matrix has taken of your vital signs, prolonged exposure to this K-Metal could kill you.

"And as to the effect of prolonged or intense exposure from a charged sample upon the simpler biology of a Earthian I can only speculate. Kyrptonite might induce mutations to their physiology, changing them in unprecedented and unpredictable ways, many which will be in due course will be lethal." His mother explained.

"Father how much K-Metal is there?"

"The Class Four Cruiser is a relatively small vessel by Kryptonian standards."

"Good." Superman said.

"It was in excess of four miles in length one mile high, and three miles wide."

"Small!" Superman gasped.

"By Kryptonian standards. Remember Kal-El Krypton possessed a surface area around 550 million times of that the Earth."

"Father there is a huge amount of poisonous metal heading towards me, that can kill me, and hurt and change human beings. What am I to do."

"Kal-El we attempted to anticipate every question you might ask, but Kyrptonite is a substance unknown to us, it is the very substance of the world that gave you life fundamentally altered by a power alien to ours, we have no data, we cannot answer you."

"Darling you were engineered to withstand any and all conceivable threats, this was not one of them."

"Then I am powerless?"

"The challenge is yours Kal-El, you must learn to master this threat, or be mastered by it." Jor-El replied.

"My son, you can grow and learn, evolve, and overcome." Lara stated. "That is life, and that was always our greatest gift to you."


	32. Chapter 32

"Why so glum Clark, nothing to see last night through your telescope?" Lois joked.

"Oh, no Lois, quite the opposite in fact.

"The Observatory was very interesting way to spend an evening, and later in the month we'll be able to enjoy quite a light show."

Lois looked unconvinced.

"Really I'm not glum, I guess maybe I'm tired, y' know a late night and all; star gazing."

"That's why it's important to get a good night's sleep. Look at me, I am full of beans."

Taylor shouted across the Newsroom. "Lane, Kent! Sanderson Chumley Clinic was raided last night; just received an anonymous tip, seemingly the place has been shut down tight since the Fed's served a warrant. No one in – no one out.

"Get up there, find out what the G-men are doing raiding that swanky nut-house."

"You heard the man." Lois chirped, bouncing down in a lemon suit she seemed to brim sunshine on an otherwise grey November day. Clark hat in hand hurried after her.

"Bet you regret the day you followed that dame in." Dan the security guard quipped as Clark hurried.

"Y' know today I'm thinking you might be right." Clark gasped as he squeezed into the elevator after Lois.

Picking up a grey corporate Ford from the Star's car pool, Lois drove. "Clark you are too tired, and that is as bad as being drunk."

Lois ploughed through the city traffic and made her way onto the express way out towards the Metro Hills district. Clark began to wonder whether calling Taylor using an assumed voice had been a good idea after all; still he knew Agent Gio Zatara had all the previous night to make good his enquiries.

Once she hit the open road she wasted no time at all.

"Lois we'll get a ticket at this rate."

"Stop complaining, do want us to get scooped, didn't you hear the Chief, the Feds have been there since last night?"

"We don't know that anyone else knows."

"We don't know that they don't. Reporting is a race Clark."

It was a hair raising ride. Clark hung on for dear life as the road began to wind and climb onto higher ground. His objections where reduced to exclamations of mock terror.

"Come on Cowboy – where's that frontier spirit?" Lois asked, clearly enjoying her herself immensely.

"Lois the brakes are getting hot, I can smell them." Her partner's voice was deeper and firmer this time; altogether more serious.

"Shut up Clark we're almost there."

"Lois that was the front gate." Kent exclaimed as the girl reporter drove on at speed.

"So we're taking the back gate." She replied; the auto's tyres complained as she took the corner hard. "It's up here sometime soon... There!"

"It doesn't look like a way in."

"Well it isn't any more. It was when this was a house of someone who was important once."

"How do you know this stuff?"

"Oh Kent, you forget I've three years and then some on you. Now be a gentleman and open that gate."

Clark got out, the wooden five bar gate was green and the old road in over grown, but Lois was right, there was a hard gravel surface under the grass. He grabbed the gate, it collapsed in his hands. Too hard Clark he remonstrated with himself. He knew the experience of last night was still lingering in his system, although it had been a long time since he had misjudged the right amount of pressure to exert.

"Must have been rotten." He said as he climbed into the car. He wiped his hands on his handkerchief.

Lois shrugged a gunned the motor past the broken timber, the wheels slid on the damp grass eventually sinking to the harder under surface, which lasted a couple of hundred yards.

"Stop Lois we're stuck." Clark stated.

"Well let's see – which of us should push." Lois looked down at her heels, and then at Clark's oversized shoes.

"Fine." He said, and slammed the heavy door of the Ford.

"Put it up a gear!" Clark shouted, Lois hit the gas, Clark shoved the auto; this time he didn't push hard enough, and he had avoid the mud that flew from the rear wheels, a second shove got the Ford moving. He shook the dirt from his pants and hurried after Lois, who had sped on without him.

By the time he ambled up the incline, Lois had been stopped where the neglected road fed out of the woodland area and into the more maintained road that ran around the Clinics grounds and garden, Federal Officers were looking bemused as a grubby Kent stumbled up.

"Gee thanks Lois for leaving me."

Lane lent against the grey ubiquitous sedan that was staple vehicle from the Daily Star's garage.

"C'mon Clark, I could hardly stop, I had to keep moving, or else I'd have been stuck again wouldn't I?"

"Fella," One of G-Men stopped Clark. "I'm guessing they way you two are - that you're working with this dame?"

Clark showed him his Press Card.

"Kent." He said aloud, pointing and Clark and gesturing to his colleague. "Agent Zatara will want to talk to this guy."

"Hey if he goes I go." Lois stated emphatically.

"Officer, really she doesn't have too." Clark suggested.

The Fed laughed. "She's that much work is she Kent? No I think we'll keep you two together for now."

"Thanks Clark. For trying to off load me there – real sweet."

"That was reverse psychology Lois." Clark replied.

"Yeah right."

The followed the second FBI Agent to the main house.

"Look Lois how did you know about that track?" Clark asked as they walked

"Old newspapers Kent – wonderful source of information, back in the day some movie star was being holed up out here, and they used the back way in to smuggle said movie star out without being seen."

"I thought you went home last night?"

"I did, after I dropped by the paper and did a little research on this Clinic."

Clark and Lois were ushered into the garden room on the clinics south facing wing. Agent Zatara was waiting, Superman of course recognised the Special Agent from his meeting with Colonel Lane, but Clark Kent could not.

"Miss Lane, Mr Kent." Gio Zatara said. "Please take a seat." He gestured to the couch.

Zatara settled in an easy chair. "Now how is it Mr Kent that I find your business card and note in the day book from yesterday connecting you with a Dr Reynolds?"

Clark adjusted his heavy glasses, which had slipped down his nose.

"Gosh sir, I think that's a little complicated."

"You are telling me, no, in fact when were you going to mention that you called in here?" Lois poked Clark.

"Well errrm, I called in to see if I could see Alexander Luthor."

Zatara nodded. "Indeed you did, a little before four in the afternoon according to the day book."

Lois shook her head. "If Clark was here, then it much earlier than that, because I know at around four he was at the Daily Star, with me and the entire Newsroom, whoever made that entry, entered wrong time."

Clark shrugged, as much to say what else could have happened.

Zatara frowned. He seemed to dislike this contradictory detail, but he seemed to accept Lois's explanation.

"Okay Kent, Lane tell me what you know. From the top."

Clark much to Lois's annoyance began detail everything they knew going right back to the Ultra Humanite, and the other Reynolds.

Grumpily she confirmed the account.

"So do you know where Reynolds is?" Lois asked Zatara.

The G-Man stood up. "I can confirm we are still looking for Doctor Reynolds. If you have any information that can help us, now or in the future, please for the sake of your country come to me."

Clark stood also. "Wait Please, Agent Zatara, what is the condition of Lex Luthor?"

Gio frowned. "Luthor is also unaccounted for. Again if you find anything that can help us." The agent passed Clark a card. "Contact me."

"Missing." Lois mouthed. "Interesting." She said.

"Very." Agreed Clark. He had known for some time the Luthor was no longer at the clinic, his initial assumption had been that the FBI must have moved him. "Reynolds must have taken Luthor, he was his doctor, no one else would have done so."

Zatara nodded. "That is a logical conclusion Mr Kent."

"You are interviewing the patients here, to find out if they know anything about the Consortium?"

"I really cannot discuss the case."

Lois frowned. "Nothing to tie Cordell, Mr Graney, and Mr Graham and Kingsley to the Consortium, to anti-American activity?" She fished.

"Beyond the note book you found, for which we are grateful – no Miss Lane; and without evidence on each individual, that remains just list of names, any lawyer would argue those four were added speculatively. They are well known within certain circles.

"As to what our investigation has uncovered, well again this is a clinic for the mentally unstable. I'm sure I don't have to spell it out."

"Come on Agent, you raided a internationally renowned sanatorium and you can't confirm any criminal activity!"

"Miss Lane for the record, there are a number of persons reported missing, at and after a specific date, who have been found registered here, some under an alias.

"All of these were brought to the clinic by Dr Reynolds; who we know is out of town, having left no contact details, because were are told, he is getting away from it all."

"Getting away. I'd say." Lois said.

"Probably."

"These missing persons – who are they?" Clark asked.

"There will be a press release dealing with the details of this operation shortly Mr Kent. Now if you will excuse me I have work to attend to."

"What about us?" Lois demanded.

"Well Miss Lane, your auto is out back, I would recommend you get into to it and leave, by the front gate this time, judging by Mr Kent's pants, it will be safer all round."

Then with a wry smile he produced the keys to the Ford magically from behind Lois's ear, dropping them in her hand.

"I thought I recognised you!" Lois said. "You've shaved the beard, and lost the top hat, but you are Giovanni Zatara, the magician."

"In another life Miss Lane, yes I was."

"Good day to you both."

-'S'-

Deedee shook her long dark hair, and walking like the internationally renowned movie star she fully intended to be, Dolores De Winters sauntered into the hip Los Angeles Sunset Strip Night Club.

She stood statuesque, framed by her companions, smiling, both taking in the scene before her, and allowing the scene to see her; poised on the top most step of five that descended into the club's sunken interior.

Flying into California she had left the Union Air Terminal for Hollywood. There she had auditioned for Colossal Studios; which had been a refreshingly professional process. Deedee had finished the day with a genuine bounce in her step. De Winters felt that things were looking up.

In many ways she was more than happy to leave behind the bad memories of Metropolis behind and embrace the froth and bubble of Tinsel Town.

At least all that had been true, until she had found herself catching her breath, and freezing like a frightened girl on her stage début. Now she found her eyes drawn irresistibly back to the far corner of the club, there seated were three men she recognised from her former life as a slave, the messenger, the runner between the Ultra Humanite and the Consortium.

Cordell, Graney, and Graham sat drinking, a fourth man not Kingsley, an Asian gentlemen; probably Japanese, sat with them, largely obscured by shadow.

"What's up honey?" Her date asked.

"Oh James, don't be a bore, just get me a Martini." Deedee told her date; a handsome rising actor. Naturally he was under contract to the same company who had invited her to screen test earlier that day.

He led her to a suitably good table.

"I was just asking, you were on the top of world when we came in, now it's all the frightened rabbit look."

"Martini."

"Look, if you are coming down... I can fix you up."

"James Brett. Shut up."

"Okay." He said holding his hands up in mock surrender, before calling over a waiter; who quickly obliges.

Deedee knocked the drink back returning the empty glass to the silver tray. "Again please." She instructed.

James Brett, probably not his real name, raised his eyebrows, and offered her a smoke.

"Dolores De Winters, fancy seeing such a familiar face from home." Kingsley slid into a seat opposite the actress. "Who's your friend babe?" he asked sucking on his big Cuban smoke.

"James Brett."

"Adam Kingsley." The suave racketeer, tapped his chest. "Imports and exports" he winked. "You in Pictures son?"

"Sands of Time is my latest, it's a story of the French Foreign Legion."

"Not seen it kid, sure it's a blast.

"Perhaps you'd like to join me and my pal's Dolores, maybe you have some news from home you can share."

"I don't think so Mr Kingsley, nothing you don't already know I'm sure." Deedee said.

Kingsley blew smoke over the table. He pointed with the big cigar. "Shame, when I saw you I kind of thought maybe that doll, having just flown in from Metropolis, might _need_ to make time for her old friends from the Golden Apple."

"I'm here for a screen test." De Winters stated firmly, as much to say I'm here for my own reasons, nothing else.

James Brett seemed a little annoyed. "A screen test with Colossal. I'm sure Dolores and I will be working together soon; you said import and exports? No interest in Pictures?"

Dolores stared at her date, he was effectively dismissing Kingsley as irrelevant to Hollywood, he clearly was too stupid to recognise the euphemism the gang boss had used.

Kingsley laughed. "My mistake Dolores. Hope things work out for you. You know where we are." He winked.

She relaxed, whatever was going down over here had put the crook in a good humour.

As the Mobster made his way over to his friends, Brett turned to De Winters. "What an obnoxious self important man."

"When you are one of the leading racketeers on the West Coast manners aren't something you give a damn about."

Brett looked at her shocked. "He's a mobster?"

"You've surely heard of Gordon Cordell?"

"Yes."

"Well he's over there, big pal of Kingsley."

Brett glanced over to where the four gang lords sat, quickly averting his gaze he turned back to Dolores, clearly unnerved.

"James take me home, I've got a headache." Deedee told him.

The actor looked across at Cordell and friends, then back to De Winters.

She smiled. "Having second thoughts about working with a gangsters Moll?"

Brett stuttered.

Deedee got up. "Forget it hotshot, I'll find my own way."

Kingsley watched her leave.

"Gentlemen." He said. "With Matson out of play and no word from our sponsor, we are very much left holding this operation together."

"She had nothing to tell us." Graham asked.

"Nothing." Kingsley said puffing smoke. "I suggest we make the most of the opportunities Dr Reynolds experiment will create."

Cordell had developed a reputation of his own in Hollywood, he took another drink from a passing waiter and said. "Meaning?"

"Good old fashioned protection." Graney replied.

Kingsley nodded. "My thoughts exactly.

"Something like five million dollars should compensate us nicely."

"A million a piece – including Butch. I like that." Cordell agreed.

The fifth man cleared his throat. "What of us."

Kingsley looked at Japanese representative. "You'll still get the complete 'product', but first as agreed you will see it tested; your people surely don't begrudge a businessman making profit out of an otherwise wasted opportunity."

"Not at all Mr Kingsley; in fact we wish you all the success in the world."

-'S'-

Lex Luthor crossed the yard from the unassuming farm house. Once an isolated farmstead close the coast, nestling in verdant countryside south of Metropolis, the recently completed interstate Highway had changed that. The farm complex now lay only dozen miles or so from the new main road, bringing the city that much closer.

Lex adjusted his hat, holding it against the sea wind that lashed against him as he made his way into the large series of interconnected barns. Once inside the climate changed, modern concrete stalls accommodated cattle and sheep, horses and even dogs were penned. The air was warm with the musty smell of animals bedded on straw. He crossed to the other side of the building.

There he hit a heavy oversized switch on the wall and the door slid open running on rails.

"Lex how are you feeling?" Doctor Reynolds asked him as the door motor hummed once more closing the box building within a building from the more conventional barn outside.

"Better thank you." Lex removed his hat.

"I see you took the opportunity to shave."

Lex ran his hand over his bald head. "I took one look at my reflection and I realised that it wasn't only my chin that would benefit from being scraped." He hung his hat and coat on the stand. The Laboratory was vast, line after line of apparatus gleamed, smaller animals, rodents, cats and even primates where in cages stacked along one wall. Luthor recognised much of the material and machinery, but equally others were alien to even him.

"Did you review the papers I gave you?" Reynolds asked him.

"I did, most interesting.

"In your notes you have thoroughly expanded upon the Griffith's Experiments, I find it's fascinating you have gone beyond the suggestion that bacteria are capable of transferring genetic information through the process of transformation, and determined the means by which transformation occurs."

Reynolds smiled. "Indeed I can show not only the existence of genes, but also I understand the true nature of the chromosome."

"This is the stuff of a Nobel prize, I find this work rekindles my passion for biology."

"I had hoped my results would pique your interest; you demonstrated real genius in your early work in the field, before the glamour of aviation caught your fancy."

Lex frowned, he still found the thought that his beloved Fire Bird project had been cancelled painful. "When will you publish these findings?"

Reynolds laughed. "My friend I have no interest in inviting the praise or criticism."

"But surely a peer review of your work..."

"Would be pointless and limiting." Reynolds interrupted. "Lex I am dabbling in the stuff of science fiction, things that would shock and offend many of those who might pretend to be my peers; they would just seek to halt my research for irrational reasons."

"Science fiction?" Lex laughed. "What are you doing here?"

"Have you read the The Island of Doctor Moreau by HG Wells?"

"In my youth I read Wells extensively, I found his the socialist subtext appealing, and his futurism captivating."

"Wells updated an old legend – did he not?" Reynolds asked rhetorically.

"Forty years ago when vivisection first offended and enraged a dull minded superstitious public, Wells revisited the mythology of the Chimera, the beast assembled from many animals, even from a man.

"Here in this laboratory, outside in the stalls are living Chimera's, animals where the transformation process has transferred genes of other animals including human genetic material into their chromosomes."

Luthor was aghast. "Such progress, I never imagined the transgenetic animals you propose in your notes where more than speculative!"

"The possibilities are incredible Lex, and with your help, together we can achieve far more, eugenics need no longer rely on the lengthy and imprecise process of selective breeding to improve the race; but on this new science of genetic manipulation, is the means by which mankind will surpassed by a new breed of better, stronger, fitter men.

"Evolution has blindly allowed living things to be recreated as something beyond themselves; what is the ape to man? So shall it be for the Übermensch who will follows us: mankind will be as apes are now to men, servile beasts, and mere animals."

"The Superman." Lex spat. "Nietzsche be damned. Can it be _you_ are responsible for that circus suited abomination?"

"Not I Lex, not anyone of my association. Whatever he is – he is not an Übermensch, he is not an Overman; for all his strength, this compassion he shows for the weak and the genetically inferior discounts him, Superman is an aberration, a throw back of some sort, a Samson, a Hercules; he is the past not the future.

"Here you and I will master him, and better him. That is why I have enlisted your help Lex Luthor."

-'S'-

Clark answered his phone at the Star. It was a long distance call. "Deedee, great to hear from you."

"Hey Clark. I'm in LA."

"Yes I knew that silly, how did your screen test go?"

"Great, I've got the part. You are talking to the New Face of 1940 - come the New year, for Colossal Studios."

"That's wonderful, I'm pleased for you; I guess I can pass that on to the showbiz desk."

"Look Clark, as happy as I am about my career taking off, that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh, what's up?"

"I seen the gang of four, y' know who I mean."

"Yes I do. They are in LA?"

"As big of life. I saw them last night."

"Gosh."

"Look Clark I've got to dash, I'm under pressure here - but I hope you can let 'you know who' know where there are?"

"Consider it taken care of, and break a leg Deedee"

"Thanks Clark, give my love to Lois."

Clark settled the receiver back in it's cradle.

Later in Taylor's office he recounted the telephone conversation. "Chief I'd like to take a trip out to California, on the face of it to follow Metropolis own Dolores De Winters in her first big lead in a major motion picture; and hopefully get some leads on why the gang of four, Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley are in Tinsel Town."

Taylor leant back in his chair and stretched. "Could be a good idea Kent, either way there is a story in this jaunt. I had intended you to partner with Lane on this business with the substandard building works."

"What's that Chief?"

"Hmmm,... oh just a whisper that a major city contractor has been using substandard materials."

"That wouldn't be Jackson Construction would it?"

"The same. Don't tell me you've been sniffing around this story too Kent."

"Well there was that business down at Grimes Brothers when the new extension they had built onto that department store - when it opened, people crowded inside, only for the new building to start falling apart."

"Yeah of course – one of your Superman scoops, he held up the collapsing building until it was evacuated."

"Well I did some checking and there was a lot false paper trails but the company behind the work was Globe Construction; but it was Jackson that swallowed Globe up after the head guy apparently killed himself."

"I get the feeling you don't think it was suicide?"

"I don't Chief."

"Well Jackson have the contract for the new municipal Stadium, which is due to complete this month; and that's where Lane is going to start checking around." Taylor explained.

Clark frowned.

The Chief seeing this said. "Don't worry about Lois, she's been doing this longer than you, besides she has a Guardian Angel these days.

"So Kent, I think you can take a train across to LA and check out this 'gang of four lead'."

Taylor hit a switch on the intercom, he buzzed his secretary. "Alice. I want you to book Kent a berth on the next streamliner out of Metropolis for LA."

The door to the office swung open. "Why is Kent going to LA?" Lois asked. "He's supposed to be with me on the construction caper."

Taylor sighed.

Later Lois Lane and Clark Kent called into the site of the new Municipal Stadium, they had enough time before their train to stop off and ask some questions.

"I can't believe you talked the Chief into letting you come with me to Los Angeles."

"He knew he needed me to cover the glamour and the sparkle. Besides he owes me."

"Owes you?"

"Sure next Hollywood trip was mine; that was the promise he made me - and he knew it. Things did happen at the Star B.C. you know."

"B.C.?"

"Before Clark." Lois quipped. "What I can't believe you were dead set against me coming, thanks a lot partner."

"This comes from the girl reporter who didn't want a greenhorn like me tagging along and dragging her down."

"Too right Kent, and don't forget where the seniority lies in this partnership either. Besides this construction story is hardly going anywhere, I mean when did you last see a building run away?"

"Depends whether by run away you include fall down, because that is what happened to Grimes Brothers."

"I know that was terrible, I used to shop there all the time."

Clark frowned.

"I'm kidding Clark; seriously Superman saved lives that day - but unless we get a lead from someone here, how are we going to prove there is a problem with the building work?"

"Good point, but the Stadium is almost finished, it's due to open soon, if it isn't up to scratch, there could be a repeat of the collapse of the Department store, but on an even bigger scale."

The two reporters walked confidently towards the impressive structure. Clark inspected the building with his enhanced vision. He stopped by a supporting arch and while Lois walked off ahead, he pinched the hard concrete. Naturally it crumbled in his fingers, but it also crumbled too easily, too much sand and inferior cement he concluded.

"Hey you!" A voice bellowed. The gruff man swaggered across to him. "What's your business here?"

Clark looked a him. "Clark Kent. Daily Star. I'd like to ask you some questions."

"No visitors, no press, no one on site who isn't a company employee."

"Well that sure is friendly." Lois returned in time to provoke matters.

"It's an insurance clause, site safety."

"Yeah, sure, just how safe is a site that's built shoddily, using cut price materials?"

"Who's you been talking to lady?" The builder growled.

"Now sir, we just want to make sure all is well..." Clark was interrupted, as a big dirty hand pushed him backwards over a pile of scaffolding planks.

"Beat it four-eyes, I don't care if you are the King of Siam, you ain't meant to be here, so beat it."

Clark picked himself up and dusted off his clothes.

Lois glared. "Surely." She said in a loud whisper. "You are not going to just stand there and take that?"

Clark glanced at his watch. "No." He said. "I'm going to leave and catch the train."

Lois let out an loud sigh of exasperation. "Clark Kent for a big man you sure act small."

Clark blinked at her, and pointed at the time.

Lois span around and stormed off.

"And don't bother coming back." The builder called after Clark as he followed her.

"Only morons resort to violence." Clark said as he caught up with her.

"And only cowards run away Kent." Lois snapped back. She turned and jabbed him. "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."

Clark bit his lip. Then after a long moment he said. "Gee Lois I'm sorry."

"You're sorry! I'm sorry; sorry that just when I think there is more to you than meets the eye, you go and prove me wrong all over again; sorry that I'm going to have to spend nearly two days on a transcontinental train with you."

"Well you don't have to come Lois?"

"And let you run away again? When the Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley story is on the line? Dream on buster." She recovered her overnight case from where she had stashed it. Clark picked up his, and followed her out of the fenced building site compound.

Lois stormed out on to the sidewalk, she began by trying to hail a cab. Clark bought a hot dog; the vendor's pitch was cleverly placed, he watched as Lois failed to get a ride; he wandered over pausing to swallow and whistle, his voice propelled across the noisy street directed at empty taxi.

"How did you do that."

"Always had a pooch on the farm Lois, best way to control a dog is whistle, you learn these things in the country.

"I miss having a dog around you know."

"Clark you can hardly take care of yourself, heaven knows how you'd take care of anyone or anything else. I pity your mother, you must have been impossible to raise." Lois said as she climbed in.

Clark followed pushing their cases up by the front partition. "Metropolis Great Central Station please."

"I just hope there aren't any more like you back in dullsville or where ever you come from."

"Smallville; and no I'm an only child." Clark finished his snack.

"Figures; keeping you going must have been a full time job, I never seen a man eat so much; I have no idea where you put it all."

"I like regular meals."

"And the rest; no wonder you're an only child, I bet your mom couldn't have afforded to feed two of you."

"I'm adopted Lois, my parents couldn't have children of their own." Clark replied coolly.

"Oh." Lois said. Then after an uncomfortable moment. "I guess you think I'm being an ass."

"I think you are. I don't know why you are this mad with me; you know I don't like to use violence.

"Any way I got this sample of the concrete which seems off to me, I going to mail it for testing." Clark showed her a piece of what he'd pried from one of the supporting pillars.

Lois sighed. "Okay Cowboy that was pretty smart."

The Cab rolled up outside the station. Lois continued. "Just think about what I said, simply letting people walk over you is not an answer." She exited still far from happy with her partner's attitude to bullies.

Clark followed with the bags.

He looked through the station to where the big streamliner was waiting. He sighed. Two days on a train with Lois Lane, two days he could have spent in Los Angeles as Superman looking for Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley. There had to be a way around this he thought as they weaved through the station.

Yet he found he was still smarting from Lois gibes; he found himself dwelling on them.

Passing the bags onto a porter, Clark went over to post his sample to the Engineering Department of Metropolis University.

The station had an area set aside for services, news stands and a counter selling stationary, Kent bought what he needed there. His hand flashed across the page as he hand wrote a lengthy letter in but a moment, indicating his suspicions, and then sealing this in with the package he mailed it, before joining Lois on board the train.

She passed him a key to his berth, in front of her were a pile of magazines detailing the Hollywood Scene.

"Research material?" Clark asked.

"Of course – a girl has to know what's going on, any way I've got to pass the time somehow." She said curtly.

Clark relaxed, checked his watch, and closed his eyes, at least she didn't expect him to entertain her, he thought. On time the big transcontinental train began to ease out of the station westwards and towards the pacific coast.

-'S'-

Luthor found working with Reynolds a revelation, but the more he observed of the Doctor, the more certain he became that Reynolds himself was not the author of the breakthroughs he utilised, despite his claims to the contrary - a capable disciple certainly, but not the master, not the genius who had deciphered the chemical code of life.

"This bacterium will interest you Lex."

The younger man peered through the microscopes twin eye pieces. "It reminds me of Pasturella Pestis."

"You are correct. Now let me show you this device; courtesy of our German friends, specifically the work of one Ernst Rusker, although he has not received any credit from the Party for this innovation, they pretend not to have noticed it."

"What is it?"

"An electron microscope, this machine far exceeds the resolution possible with an optical device."

"Yes I recall that University of Toronto made a working model last year."

"Yes but this has a magnifying resolution into the million times scale."

"Impressive."

Reynolds activated the device and fed the image through to a cathode ray tube display.

"This bacteria has been developed through genetic manipulation, it is a new creation."

"What is is purpose?"

"I call it Porphura Thanatos Pestis."

"The Purple Death?" Lex looked at Reynolds.

"Yes it is biological weapon; it is the beginning of a new age Mr Luthor."

-'S'-

Lois looked up from her Life magazine. "Accommodation to your satisfaction Mr Kent?"

"huh? Oh my berth, sure thing Lois it's lovely."

"Then why the long face?"

"Oh. I'm not feeling very well."

"Oh Clark!" Lois groaned. "Don't tell me you get travel sick."

Kent looked apologetic. He nodded.

"Go ask the Guard, I'm sure they carry something on board for cases like you." Lois suggested.

"Gee Lois, that's a great idea."

When Clark returned he seemed a little happier. "I am going to lay down Lois, the Guard gave me something to help me sleep."

Lois glanced at her watch. It was still early. "I guess laying down in the dark will help." She replied shaking her head in despair.

Clark said goodbye and walked past his berth, checking either way he quickly went to end of the carriage. There he double checked he was alone before leaping into the night. Superman hurtled away from the train. However he did not fly west; there was another pressing issue on his mind.

"Hello Mom." Clark said as walked into the Kent's kitchen in Maryland.

Martha embraced him. "I was just making some cocoa for your Pa. Would you like some?"

"Love some, thank you."

Jonathan joined them, answering his wife's call. He placed a copy of the Star down on the table, and accepted the hot drink thankfully.

"Cookie boys?" Martha asked needlessly.

"These are great Mom." Clark said munching.

"Your Editor in this here paper."

"George Taylor?"

"That's the fella." Jonathan said. "He's a war monger."

Clark frowned. "The editorial line of the Daily Star is that America should support democracy, support those who oppose Fascism."

"I don't like it."

"Now Jonathan, I'm sure Clark is more than aware of your view of the war in Europe."

Clark considered why he was here, why Lois's words had troubled him deeply, and the events of recent days; Kryptonite, and Colonel Lane's revelation regarding the secret work of Alsos. Sipping the hot sweet drink, he came to a decision.

"Mom, Pa, Superman has been asked to help the United States."

Jonathan ran his hand through his grey hair. "How do you mean son."

"The President has created an organisation, it's top secret; but the simple truth is, there are threats to the nation, people like the Ultra Humanite that don't play by the rules, that have access to science and power which is beyond that of the average American.

"Pa I have powers beyond those of mortal men, in times like these it was only a matter of time before I was asked to step up to the plate and play my part."

"We are not a war, and I hope we never are." Jonathan declared with passion.

"As do I Pa, I hope the average guy in the street doesn't have to fight, but Pa – I'm already fighting, not because I want to, but because there are bad people out there who want to hurt America, hurt the world, to benefit themselves; they want us to be defeated before we even get the opportunity to fight back."

Jonathan took out his pipe. "You remind me of Tom."

"What would you have me do? Didn't you tell me to use my great strength to help humanity?"

"I never imagined you'd be sat here telling me you were going to war."

"Pa I can't stop people killing each other, or themselves, but I don't have to make war - not like than any way, I don't have to kill to bring a man down, I'm better than that – I know I can save lives."

"Jonathan, Tom wasn't Clark. Clark is bullet proof." Martha said.

Clark frowned, he considered telling his Mom and his Pa about the K-Metal that Barnett Winston had discovered, but he resolved for now there was no point in worrying them more than he had to.

"He still has limits Martha." Jonathan noted.

"Now Pa, don't you think I realise that? Didn't I hate him going to school? Then I hated him going to Metropolis – there are always limits, but you were the first to tell me that Clark can only find them himself." She replied.

"And you were right Jonathan.

"I don't want our boy in danger, but how can I stand in his way? He has become something greater than we ever imagined, even hoped, back when we first realised he was special; if President Roosevelt believes America needs Clark's help – who are we to tell him no?"

Jonathan stood up. "Special, certainly, the right thing? Perhaps this Taylor and his ilk are correct – but at what cost, war?" He was working his pipe, lighting the tobacco.

The older man paced the floor. "I can't tell you what to do Clark, your mother is right - you are a grown man.

"But surely America faces enough problems at home without worrying what happens a world away?"

Clark shook his head. "The world is smaller than it was, and it's getting smaller.

"Pa, not so long ago, I woke up on the other side of world, on an Irish beach after battling the latest threat to Metropolis, the other side of the world is no farther away to me than Los Angeles from here; and as fast as I am now, that's no time at all."

Jonathan was not so easily persuaded. "But at what cost?" He asked again, saying.

"Look son as your Pa I'm wondering what is the cost to you Clark? Fighting crime is one thing, fighting across the sea, fighting foreigners or foreign soil, for a foreign cause; is that the American way son?"

Clark folded his arms. "Pa since when did truth and justice have borders?"

Jonathan puffed out smoke.

"Clark you are Superman, but still only one man." Martha told him. "You can't be everywhere, every corner of the world."

"Someone said to me earlier today 'All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.'"

Jonathan nodded. "Your Mother is right, you only one man. One bullet proof, and bomb proof man; so I guess you are certain that you'll be coming home from your war."

Clark didn't answer. He didn't say, as long as there are no magic weapons, as long as my enemies never learn about Kryptonite.

"But listen to me son, in war the price of victory is paid by those who are left behind, who live on after the death of friends and family.

"That son is the cost of surviving war, and so forgive me for wanting to protect you from ever having to pay it, because it is a bitter price I can tell you.

"But having said that, I can see you are determined to do what you think is right, and I'd be a fool not to admire you for that, if you are a man of conviction; it's because we raised you that way.

"I am proud of you son."

Clark hugged his father. "Thanks Pa.

"You and Mom have been everything for me." He embraced Martha before taking his leave, this time he went west.

Superman pursued and caught the charging streamliner train; quickly locating Lois Lane with his enhanced vision, he noticed she had acquired another companion, he was pleased she was being distracted, but at the same time he recognised a pang of regret, jealousy even, that it was another man and not Clark that was passing the time with his partner.

Satisfied that at least Kent was not being missed, the Man of Tomorrow accelerated over and above the Pacific Railway train, far more powerful than any locomotive, Superman swept across the night sky flying transcontinental to the city of Angels in search of demons.

-'S'-

Dolores De Winters entered the Beverly Hills Home Colossal Studios had provided for her. The studio system generously looked after it's Stars, critically the same system effectively orchestrated even the intimate details of the lives.

Brett James had been tasked with being the boyfriend, a role he had initially adopted with enthusiasm, but now he abandoned her and gladly tore away in his expensive convertible; he hadn't liked the idea she was a gangster moll, an unfair accusation on one level, but equally given the mind control exerted by the Ultra Humanite also uncomfortably close to the truth.

Dolores through her coat down on couch, and was shocked to see three men sitting in her living room, clearly waiting for her.

"I hope you don't mind me making myself at home?"

"Gordon Cordell." De Winters said coldly, recognising the chief among the three. "What the hell are you doing here."

"Waiting for you toots, wad y' think?"

"I have no idea why you would, like I told your buddy Kingsley, I don't have anything to tell you." De Winters walked across into the living room.

"You know the other guys, they're seeing lots of green coming our way, don't get me wrong that's good news; thing is doll-face good news, good money, a guy can get cocky, miss the little details in all that excitement.

"And I'm thinking how is that the boss-man would stay _so_ quiet, especially when we're tweaking his well laid plans?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You see toots, maybe you don't remember him, plenty don't; but you sure remember me, Kingsley, the other fella's. Now I have a friend that tells me that a certain clinic has been raided."

"What has this to do with me."

"Just a lot of people like you ended up there; and that worries me."

Dolores hid he anxiety behind a mask of confidence. "I'd offer you a drink, but I see you and your gorilla's have already found one; but I still have no idea what your talking about, but, whatever you are planning you better remember there is a new Sheriff in the Golden Apple.

"if I were you I'd forget whatever business you have in Metropolis and go legit, invest in say... Pictures."

"Sheriff you say – and who would that be?" Cordell laughed.

"That would be me." Superman said.

Deedee span round she sat down gleefully. "Oh! am I glad to see you!" She beamed.

"Trouble Miss De Winters, I'm thinking an unwanted guest?" Superman walked into the room, the thugs watched him intently, surprised and uncertain.

"Yes Superman that's exactly the problem I have." Deedee told him.

"You the guy that took down Butch." Cordell growled, working things out in his mind.

"Yes that would be me. I knew De Winters was connected unwillingly I might add to Matson, so I've been watching her, and here you are; making my work easy. Thanks Cordell."

"Well maybe me and the fella's will just make things hard for you!" Cordell suggested drawing guns he and his men let rip.

Superman deflected the hot lead, catching the bullets in his hands as flashed across the room, the two goons dropped unconscious at his feet as he landed precise blows, then he faced Cordell exchanging the still hot slugs for gang boss's automatic.

Cordell swore, cursing he dropped the hot bullets, Superman crushed the gun before his eyes and dragged him close to him. "What are you and Kingsley, Graney, and Graham planning."

"Go to hell."

"Hmm not the attitude I'd recommend, but at least this is going to be entertaining for one of us, and that would be me."

"Miss De Winters, I think you should call the Police and report a home invasion. Meantime Mr Cordell and I are going to have a conversation."

Moments later Superman stood on and Cordell dangled over, the iconic Hollywood sign. Beyond where the lights of city.

"I told you, I'm saying nothing, I'm no squealer."

"How about I make you."

"What? You're going to do me over? What kind of good guy are you?"

"The kind that can gain a lot of altitude, I find altitude gains perspective." Superman said as he shot skyward. Adding. "How about radical flight patterns?" He drove down, executing lightening fast turns.

"Whoa." He said as Cordell vomited. The Man of Tomorrow made sure the material blew away from him. "Why is it always carrots?" Superman asked. "Have you being eating carrots?" He demanded as he held the Mobster upside down.

Cordell just groaned.

"Right now your inner ear is doing the loop the loop still, and you're close to passing out, but the good news is I find the fresh air tends to revive people pretty quickly.

"You see Cordell I don't need to bruise you, break a bone in your body to take you to hell and back via the heavens, so unless you want a repeat performance I'd start talking."

"Okay damn you." Cornell spat. "Anything but that again. I feel like death." He coughed and breathing heavily began to explain what he knew.

"It's Kingsley and a Doctor called Reynolds they've cooked up a scheme.

"The boss-man..."

"You mean the Ultra Humanite."

"Yeah." Cordell winced. "Well, he had this plan see - to test a germ weapon somewhere isolated, an out of way rural community,.."

"What?"

"Yeah the Jap's are real interested in germ weaponry and if Reynolds can make this germ weapon work, they are going to pay us, I mean Kingsely... serious money for it."

"For their war in China?"

"Yeah I reckon, what do I care."

Superman shook with anger. "You said _were_ going to test it somewhere isolated, why say _were_, how has that changed?"

Cordell for the first time was genuinely terrified rather than just afraid, Superman listened intently and observed his vital signs. "Metropolis, Kingsley decided to test the germ weapon in Metropolis."

"You are joking, why do that?"

"Five million dollars." Cornell replied. "Once people fall sick, the city will be desperate for a solution."

"And Kingsley via Doctor Reynolds no doubt would provide it."

"Sure. For a ransom."

"When is this happening?"

"Soon – I don't know when exactly; I mean I'm just taking orders from Kingsely and Reynolds, it wasn't our concern; we just knew it was coming - this month sometime and so we came out west. As to the when and how that's Reynolds business.

"Honest to God that's all I know."

Later Clark Kent rejoined Lois in the carriage of the Pacific Railways Streamliner. She had moved onto a novel 'Pale Horse, Pale Rider' having grown bored of magazines.

"Feeling better Clark?"

"I've felt better Lois."

"Well I hope you are not coming down with something."

"Yes I sure hope there isn't a bug going around." Clark said coldly.

Meanwhile on Sunset Boulevard a Los Angeles Police car pulled over. A small crowd had gathered under a street light and there was a commotion. The Patrol cars wing mounted spot light soon picked out the figure of man hanging for dear life to the top of the lamppost.

"Tony is that guy naked." The Cop working the spot lamp laughed.

"He sure looks naked." Tony replied.

The cops climbed out of the car, Tony lent over and grabbed the handset, radioing for the fire department to bring a ladder.

"Now for what fool reason are you sitting up their in your birthday suit buddy?" The first Cop asked grinning.

The naked man swore at him and he shouted desperately. "Get me down for God's sake, get me down!"

"Don't I know you?" The Cop exclaimed. Then in complete bewilderment he declared. "Well I never thought to see such a thing; who would dare to make a fool out of Gordon Cordell?"


	33. Chapter 33

The Streamliner made one of it's scheduled stops to take on supplies. A number of passengers left and others joined. Over half the journey was completed, once the train was under way again Clark joined Lois in the dining car for breakfast.

"There you are - I was beginning to wonder if travel sickness was fatal."

Clark smiled weakly, the waiter offered him breakfast he turned that down, instead settling for coffee.

"Now you _are_ worrying me Cowboy, no cooked breakfast with all the trimmings and then some. You must be feeling ill." Lois said, she ate some toast.

"I'm doing okay, I've just got to take things easy and lay down if I start feeling queer."

"Look at this."

"I'd rather not try and read Lois." He glanced at the paper she offered him. The Los Angeles Evening Dispatch, dated yesterday.

"Well of course, but listen, here's some choice quotes. Headline; 'Reports of Flying Man', and it goes on, 'Metropolis Madness reaches LA', 'Police dismiss reports as fanciful'."

"Really Lois another flying man, isn't one enough?"

"Clark don't be a fool, it must be Superman, he must be in LA looking for the gang of four."

"Possibly."

"Listen, they are rubbishing the Daily Star here; 'It is widely believed that the Metropolis Daily Star joined by Metro Radio have been perpetrating a hoax after the fashion of the now infamous Martian Invasion Radio program directed and narrated by Hollywood's own Orson Wells.'

Clark drank his coffee slowly. "You can hardly blame people for being sceptical, y' know Superman dresses up like a character from Buck Rodgers; it's not surprising folk are thinking this is some publicity stunt for a new movie serial or something."

Lois frowned. "That's pretty what it says here, if you didn't have your eyes closed I swear you were reading the page."

"What's more important than Superman surely, is whether Messers Cordell, Graney, Graham and Kingsley get a mention any where."

"Funny you should say that, it seems Cordell is in custody, something about having undergone a public breakdown, that required him to be rescued from a top a street light in a 'state of undress'."

-'S'-

Meanwhile on the East Coast Cordell was being questioned by Los Angeles finest.

Detective Sergeant Winton pressed the reluctant man for answers. "Let me get this straight Gordon, you're sticking to this story about the flying man?"

"It's the truth. Why would I climb buck naked on top a post on Sunset, I ask you? That's crazy."

"You're telling me; but I'm not the one talking about men flying around in their winter underwear."

Cordell's lawyer interrupted. "Detective, there is no need to ridicule my client. We have provided copy of sworn affidavits from Metropolis proving that Mr Cordell's account, however incredible it maybe, is not evidence of an unbalanced mind.

"Rather a truthful account of an assault against his person."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't know what they've been putting in the water over in the Golden Apple, but I'm not buying into this stuff, just because Hollywood films fantasies doesn't mean this Hollywood guy believes in them."

The expensive suit across from the hard nosed cop exclaimed. "Here!" Holding up a back-copy of the Metropolis Daily Star, the Lawyer waved it in Winton's face. "The Governor of Troy State himself confirms the existence of a supernatural being."

Winton blew smoke across the table. "Way I read that article is, this supernatural being - the guy you want me to believe in?

"Well says here he is an Agent of Justice, not a thug who beats on innocents, way I see it is you can't have it both ways, besides this newspaper piece means nothing, so... some Politician believes in a flying man, I was just reading last week about a State Senator that believed the world was flat.

"What I do believe is the sworn testimony of two of my best officers and dozens of witnesses, who all saw your client indecently exposing himself in a public place."

The Lawyer gestured to Cordell to keep quiet. "I demand you release my client immediately."

"This here piece of paper signed by our doctor means that we get to keep Mr Cordell for the near future, for his own safety; on account of perilous mental state.

"I mean come on bub, a flying man – I mean really what else would any head-quack do?"

"You'll regret doing this Winton." Cordell growled.

"Nah I don't think so, but you Cordell? I reckon you'll regret mainly not having stayed put - stuck with your new friends in Metropolis. Maybe those charming people would be more inclined to cut you some slack when it comes to a 'little green men' made me do it defense."

Cordell growled. "Okay 'flying man' " Winston laughed." Adding. "But you had to come home, home to this city - to my patch, and that means our good doctor gets to make the call – and he reckons you are nuttier than nut-bar.

"Me I don't give a damn, I'm just glad I've got a reason to keep you and look into your business, and I'm going to keep looking."

"Is that a threat Detective?" Cordell's Lawyer demanded.

"It's a promise. After all you want me to believe you, accept your client is sane, well I'm looking into his activities – what else can I do to establish his sanity, that's what you want isn't it?"

No one answered him. Winton stood up, picked up the file from the table. "I thought as much. Enjoy your stay Cordell, I'm sure we'll talk again soon."

-'S'-

Across in Metropolis the diners and food stands were busy with the first customers seeking an early lunch, as Doctor Reynolds and Lex Luthor made their way into Little Bohemia, past the Meat Packing District and deep into the seedy side of Metropolis's crime and poverty ridden underbelly, here the poor and disadvantaged congregated.

Reynolds used fake identification; Metropolis Board of Health Inspectorate to cover this visit, taking the two men into the free clinic where Reynolds had earlier administered his so called treatment. Luthor now understood this serum to be the germ agent Reynolds called the Purple Death.

If anyone recognised Reynolds they didn't acknowledge him, the chaos was too all encompassing, room after crowded room, bore testament to the virulent nature of the diseases sudden progression.

"The disease we observed in the lab is transferred from subject to subject primarily by physical contact, and close proximity, in that way it is similar to the common cold, but it's symptoms are more debilitating."

Lex bent over one of the many sick. "They appear delirious."

"Yes." Reynolds agreed. "That is the intermediate phase, the initial three to four day incubation period is relatively benign, with the infectious stage coinciding with the cold and flu like symptoms which manifest increasingly over that period; then comes sudden collapse, and as you see a state of delerium; with occasional moments of lucidity.

"The breakdown of venal vessels during this phase close to the skins surface results in a characteristic purple discolouration, which has given this disease it's popular name, newly minted here in Metropolis – the Purple Plague."

"What is the tertiary stage?"

"The patient lapses into a coma, then later death.

"But the beauty of the diseases progression is the lengthy period of unconsciousness, it can take many weeks for a healthy individual to die."

Luthor nodded following Reynolds logic. "Of course, incapacitating both the patient, and swamping the medical services, with increasing numbers of sick and sicker people, draining both personal and materials more completely than a disease that killed swiftly."

"Yes, it is far better to fatally wound your enemy than kill; one soldier falls, it requires two carry him from the field. With this weapon not only will those who are struck by this 'magic' bullet die slowly as you say consuming resources, but in due course those that care for them will succomb the condition."

"And if Metropolis acts quickly?" Luthor asked.

"If they pay soon, then only a handful of the weak will die. The old, the infirm, fragile infants, these are the most at risk, but almost any person will, once treated, can recover."

"The treatment – are you not concerned that it will become easily available." Lex unconsciously rubbed his arm where Reynolds had recently inoculated him against his germ weapon.

"There are hidden levels of complexity in its production that will guarantee a monopoly for the Consortium – for I'd wager sometime to come.

"In any event, by transforming the vector agent we can create new strains - which in turn will require unique treatments."

"Why infect the no-account poor?" Lex asked.

"I wanted to test the speed of transmission in an urban environment, if the plague had been spread among the elite of the city then the quarantine measures would be introduced quickly; earlier than I desire. Besides the sex trade will ensure transmission across social boundaries; in that respect, my aim be a broad dispersal, this was the ideal location to disseminate the contagion."

Reynolds and Luthor left the clinic. Lex asked the Doctor. "When will you deliver the ransom demand?"

"In a day or so, once the Plague is headline news, and the people are clamouring for action, when the Mayor is fully aware of the city's desperate plight - then I will tell them that their salvation lies not with a messiah who flies out of the sky, but from science. In exchange for cold hard cash of course."

-'S'-

"Jake?"

"Yeah Clark, you and Lois arrived in Hollywood."

"Just got in."

"Story for the Desk already? You move fast Kent."

Clark laughed. "Not fast enough for Lois.

"Look Jake, just got talking to someone, long story short, is any word something nasty happening with you, a sickness of some sort."

"Yeah funny you should mention it. Getting reports from Little Bohemia of some sort of sleeping sickness, people collapsing that sort of thing – give me a second Clark.

"Yeah here it is, a purple colour to the skin, delirium, people can't be woken. What do you know all the way out there."

"Not sure yet, but errr keep an ear to the ground, I've heard a whisper it could be nastier than it appears."

"Will do, you get back to us with a Tinsel Town Scoop of the Century Okay?"

"Sure thing." Clark returned the receiver and chased after Lois.

"Who were you calling?" Lois asked.

"Just the office, letting them know we had arrived."

Lois seemed unimpressed. "Well I don't know about you, but once we check in at the Hotel, I really want to freshen up before we go over to Colossal Studios."

"Of course. The schedule we were given shows Dolores should be shooting a scene late this afternoon, we should be able to catch her performance and meet with her when she's through for the day."

"Leaving our evening free to try and get a lead on the 'gang of four' – no make that three; sounds like a plan Kent."

With the mundane business out the way, the refreshed reporters presented their credentials to the guards at the front gate of Colossal Studios Lot, and from there Lois and Clark entered the studio where Dolores was at work.

The scene was set for a solo piece to camera, rain would appear to fall, but the water was cleverly drained into channels under the raised step of the stage and away from the cameras and lights, the landscape around the actress was trickery as was the thunder and lightening and wind that would accompany the rain.

The lighting shifted to dark, the clapper loader brought in the clapper board, there was silence and then director called action.

Dolores stood shielded from the artificial downpour by a large umbrella, simulated lightening flashed followed by a crash of recorded thunder; the character looked forlornly into the distance for her lost sweetheart.

Clark watched with interest. As he took in the technical details of the filming process, a twitching light assembly immediately caught his eye, moving into super-time, his enhanced senses identified the culprit, apparently a lighting technician wrench in hand was freeing one of the heavy spot lamps suspended high above the studio floor.

The light began to fall directly towards where Dolores stood.

Clark faced a dilemma how to act without compromising his dual identity; Superman needed to buy time. Fractions of a second past.

Using the cover of the wind machine he pursed his lips and blew. The light stage lamp's descent was momentarily arrested, at the same time he stepped forward.

In real time Lois saw Clark sprint onto set, moving faster than she had ever seen or imagined the laid-back country boy able, grabbing the actress Clark pulled her out of the way of the falling light, his timing was perfect, not too fast to be inhuman, but fast enough to move Dolores clear.

The metal box struck the set with tremendous crash. It was only then that Kent realised it he had miscalculated, as he felt the surge electricity fire through him.

Clark jumped lifting Deedee clear of the charged water and onto the dry studio floor. Dolores had, for a brief moment, received an electric shock, had he not acted she could easily have been electrocuted. Clark quickly ensured her vital signs were good. She had apparently fainted, but he was reassured that his friend hadn't suffered lasting harm.

Behind him the light exploded in sparks as the water conducted the current, fuses blew, and the lightening rig went dark. In a corner of the studio a small explosion was followed by a fire.

Moments later the main lights, fed from a separate board were turned up. Clark gently lay the unconscious actress on the floor, and took her hand to check her pulse.

Around them the studio exploded into life, the hum of angry voices, questions being shouted. It was clear however the reporters quick thinking had averted disaster.

The wrench wielding man Clark had moments before identified as the culprit stood observing them from the high gantry, staring especially at prostrate woman. Clark studied him, and he did not like what he saw. Only seconds had past, and the man realising that Kent was watching him, began to run.

Keeping Lois behind him, Clark removed his glasses apparently to wipe the water from the artificial rain from the lenses, glancing up his heat vision flashed imperceptibly in super-time. Above two chains holding up one end of the walkway sheared and the man tumbled along with it, sliding along the wooden walkway as it fell from horizontal to a near vertical angle. Falling the culprit dropped onto the set, the fake trees and landscape breaking his fall, saving him from serous injury, but winding him, and knocking him senseless.

"That's the man I saw tampering with the light." Clark shouted pointing at the prostrate figure. Men from the support staff ran to secure him. Others armed with extinguishers put out the small fire.

Dolores began to come around out of her dead faint, she looked up at Clark. For a moment he saw anger and incomprehension in her eyes, and then after some inner struggle there followed recognition. "Clark?" She gasped.

Kent helped her to her feet.

Shakily Dolores lent heavily on him. She still seemed out of sorts. Looking across at the set, at the chaos, the actress collected her thoughts, coming to an understanding as to what had just happened. "You saved my life!"

Looking at him she smiled warmly, then she kissed him, a full on the lips Hollywood kiss. "Thank you Clark Kent."

"I was going to ask if you were all right." Lois said to Dolores. "But it seems you are fine. Both of you."

Deedee blushed. "Yes, thanks to Clark. Again."

Lois nodded, her violet eyes flashed angrily. Ever the reporter she ran to the stage. There the groggy villain was being carried away. Lois checked him out; his short cropped sandy hair was harsh like a military cut, but she was very surprised to see he resembled Reynolds.

"Clark!" She said. "Look at that man. Doesn't he remind of someone?"

Clark made a point of looking for appearances sake, what Lois didn't know was that he had already compared the man's features, even his bone structure, and dental condition against his eidetic memory.

"Yes he looks like Reynolds - but... coincidence maybe?" He said. Lois frowned. Clark added. "Well his hair is a different colour, and this fella has scar on his face." But his frown showed he was less certain than the evidence suggested.

The Director recovering from the shock of almost losing his leading lady, began to make his presence felt, and he was understandably less than pleased; seeing that his shoot was ruined, and his set damaged. More over he was very unhappy reporters had been on scene to witness this chaos unfold around him. Still he managed to thank Clark for his quick reactions, but pressed the reporter on what he had observed.

"Are you certain that the man who fell, deliberately released the light from the assembly?" The Director demanded.

"I saw him." Kent explained. "It wasn't until I saw the light begin to hang free that I realised he was loosening it, rather than say adjusting it; but it soon became clear to me that's what he was doing."

"What will become of him." Lois asked pointing to the sandy haired man.

"We'll hold him here, he's out of it anyway, and the boys will check the rig, and if it's as your partner described then it will become a matter for the police."

Dolores understood the atmosphere of the moment. "Look you two, let us finish up here. Let the guys do their thing.

"Mean time I'll get out of costume." For a moment she froze, there seemed to be a problem, Clark supported her.

"I'm okay." She said letting go of her friend. "Just felt dizzy for a moment, that's all."

"I'll get the Doc to check you over." Her Director said, putting himself between the actress and the two reporters. "Come on Dolores, I'll take you over there myself."

Clark noted this slight, it was however to be expected that the Studio would have a Doctor on staff. "Okay. I guess we are in the way." Clark said, pointedly no one from Colossal disagreed. "So perhaps it's best if we head back to our Hotel?

"You can call us there Deedee, let us know you are okay?" He suggested.

"Sure thing – then maybe we can grab some dinner or something?" She replied warmly.

Lois took charge; writing the necessary information on the back of her business card. "Here." She said passing the card over. "That's our Hotel and our details.

"The Police will want to talk to us I expect." The Director took the card and pocketed it.

"Yes – If it comes to that, then I expect they will." The Colossal Pictures man said.

Clark waved Dolores goodbye, he left after shaking the hands of a number of the guys on set, each wanting to thank him for his actions. Their warmth in marked contrast to the Directors distrust.

Lois looked back somewhat frustrated. Finally the two reporters left the set, and the Studio Lot.

As the Cab drove them back across town. Lois said. "Don't you think that was all very strange?"

"What? My rescuing Dolores."

Lois didn't exactly disagree, but said. "Well that wasn't quite what I meant. Didn't you think the Director was in a hurry to get rid of us?"

"Yes, he seemed embarrassed."

"I thought it was more than that, he seemed to think – or at least he very much wanted us to think, that the light falling _was_ an accident."

"Well I think otherwise."

Lois nodded. "I know Clark, my women's intuition agrees with you."

Back at the Hotel they waited for a call that didn't come through, finally Lois called Colossal Studio's herself.

Lois finished the call. "Typical." She told Clark.

"It wasn't until they realised we'd seen the so-called accident happen, that I even got a half decent answer."

"Hmm. Strange.

"So where is Dolores?"

"That's the thing, they said she couldn't be reached, that I couldn't speak to her, then after I insisted, they finally said that she'd collapsed some time after we left, delayed shock I was told and that she was being taken care of at home."

"She was fine Lois." Clark stated firmly. "A little shaky, but otherwise okay."

"Yes Doctor Kent.

"But to be fair she seemed _more_ than 'a little shaky' to me." Lois told him. She frowned, deep in thought.

"So let me guess your women's intuition says we should go over there, poke around – ask questions, that kind of thing?"

"Well... I was more thinking along the lines of dropping around her house, and seeing how she's feeling."

The taxi delivered them to the Beverly Hill Bungalow Clark recognised as De Winter's courtesy home. The two reporters rang the bell and were greeted by a large balding man.

"Good evening." Clark began. "Is Dolores in?"

"Miss De Winters isn't seeing no one." Came the harsh reply.

"But we are friends, both Lois and I, we know her very well, we're from Metropolis."

"Is she here?" Lois demanded, stepping inside. Clark put himself between her and the aggressive man.

"No visitors." The studio muscle insisted, trying to push past Kent.

"You misunderstand – we are friends..." Clark stammered, while blocking his path.

Dolores appeared, her surprised expression showed she was puzzled by the commotion. She looked and Lane and then Kent, frowning, before saying.

"I'm sorry – I'm not giving any interviews tonight." It was a unexpected and curt reply.

Lois protested. "But kiddo we just came to see if you were all right, y' know after your shock earlier?"

De Winters thought for a moment.

"Yes, thank you.. for your concern. Yes of course you were there... but really I must... rest." He voice was halting and uncertain. Then more forcefully she stated.

"I'm sorry, perhaps another time."

Lois looked at Clark quizzically. The exchange of words was happening, but making little sense.

"Good night." Dolores said abruptly, and left them.

Her man said. "You heard the lady. Do I have to get physical with you? You reporters ain't nothing but trouble."

"Okay." Clark said. "We'll leave." Lois protested, but reluctantly accompanied him, behind them the door shut loudly.

As they walked away he said to her. "That was very strange - don't you think that was strange?"

"Yes in one way, but in another No." Lois replied angrily. Kent looked surprised. She sighed.

"Honestly Clark, I say give the girl some space.

"I mean - yes it was odd, but then she's an actress, they get like that.

"I'm sure it's as simple as Dolores probably isn't feeling herself. Look nearly dying isn't fun – I should know."

Clark shrugged. What could he say to that, maybe Lois was right he conceded to himself.

Lois continued. "I get it you are sweet on the girl..."

"Now Lois I didn't say that." He said.

Lois laughed, saying "And so... she kissed you - okay _big deal_ for _you_ I'm sure, but like I said she's an actress, they're always like this, believe me, and so we've known her for what five minutes, who knows what she's really like, especially out here in Hollywood."

Clark frowned, something to him seemed wrong. He would have liked to have stayed watching and listening, but how would he explain that he was looking and listening through walls?

Lois continued. "Any way, we've better things to do; I think we should hit the Strip, I hear Cordell has a club on Sunset Boulevard."

"If you think so."

"I do – remember Clark the real reason we are here is to search for dirt on those four hoodlums, well three at the moment seeing Cordell is in custody."

Reluctantly Clark followed Lois as they left their Hotel again, she had changed into something more appropriate, as had he. His tuxedo, had been altered to fit his Clark Kent persona, it wasn't flattering, but that was the idea.

"Where did you get that suit?" Lois asked.

"Thrift." Clark replied, "I had a Tailor adjust it for me."

"Well it's an improvement on that blue number, not much, but an improvement."

They arrived at Cordell's Club, and at the bar Lois began asking questions of the tender, local gossip at first, mentioning she and Clark were visiting from Metropolis, gradually working towards mentioning Cordell, and his links to the Golden Apple.

"Small world Kent." The speaker pushed a business card under Clark's nose.

Clark shook Agent Zatara's hand, he had observed the G-man earlier, but had kept that to himself, ever the mild mannered reporter – at least when circumstances permitted him to maintain the illusion, maintaining a dual identity was proving harder in practise than he had hoped.

"Hello Mr Jones." Clark greeted Gio using the false name he read on the Federal Agents Business card. He emphasised the 'Jones' so that Lois overheard him.

"Let me buy you and your girlfriend a drink." Gio said.

Lois smiled, this time letting the description ride. "Of course... Mr Jones."

"I have a table." Gio gestured. They sat down in a booth.

"I'm guessing you are here for the same reason I flew out." Zatara lit a cigarillo. Clark noted he didn't appear use a match or a lighter.

"Cordell ran into Superman."

"So we read." Lois said.

Zatara nodded. "We know that big blue is the genuine article, but there is no pressing need for the LAPD to 'believe' that, at least offically. Cordell has been taken into medical supervision, that's given us reason to poke around in his affairs, although it won't last, his lawyer has lodged an appeal. With a second opinion in his favour, he could be out on streets again.

"And to be honest there are two journalists who are most closely linked to Superman have shown up here."

"Yeah." Lois said. "Like bad pennies."

"Y'know I'd hate to see you in particular Miss Lane subpoenaed as witness, to testify about Superman's abilities on behalf of Cordell."

Lois leant forward. "Look... Mr Jones, we are here legitimately pursuing a story in the public interest. it's great Cordell is out of circulation, but that still leaves three bad guys seen just in this club, a couple of nights ago."

"Well let me help you out there. Those three are gone, out of the picture, gone to ground."

Clark look puzzled. "Seriously?"

"Whatever happened to Cordell spooked them, they've dropped off the map. Don't get me wrong I don't especially blame Superman for talking to him, guess he had his reasons."

Lois said firmly. "And he's effectively gifted you an opportunity to look into what Gordon Cordell has been doing."

"True." Zatara conceded. "But as for the others - your guess is as good as mine."

"Thanks." Lois replied. "But we haven't spent two days on a train getting here only to learn our hot story is dead already. So if you don't mind if we'll have a look around any way."

Zatana blew a impressive spinning smoke ring. "I figured you would."

-'S'-

Graney, Graham and Kingsley sat in the Ultra Humanites Los Angeles headquarters. They had been summarily summoned, and had imeediately made there way to this well appionted retreat hidden in the Hollywood Hills. A modern palace built in concrete and steel.

They were greeted by the sandy haired man who they recognised as 'Gamma' Reynolds. He directed them in the spacious reception room with elevated views over the sprawling Los Angeles conurbation.

Dolores De Winters appearance surprised them even more than the communique.

"Gentlemen."

"Miss De Winters." Kingsley began. "Frankly we are surprised to see you."

"Why is that."

"When last we talked you seemed, a little distracted. Then Cordell told me he was going to talk to you. Instead I hear Superman appears, takes him from your house and well, embarrasses him, publicly."

"Cordell was a fool. Coming to see me like that." De Winters laughed coldly

The men stiffened.

"What's the matter with you? Look at you running scared, running away from your work in Metropolis.

"And what I can't believe you have audacity to alter the plan, simply to line your own pockets?"

Kingsley kicked back. "In the absence of the Boss, of Alpha Reynolds, I think we have handled matters very well; besides Beta Reynolds was happy to help us.

"The Germans are still on side, and prepared to accept Lex Luthor in place of the Plane, and the Japanese are more than happy to see the germ weapon tested inside a city.

"The real question is who do you think _you_ are to question _us_."

De Winters laughed, from a hidden recess an automaton emerged, in it's hands a blue sphere crackled. "Who I am - as of today?

"I'm the one - how do you say – who is holding all the cards."

The marble like Golem turned, the orb sparked.

"Now Mr Kingsley, you will return to Metropolis on the first plane available. Graham you will join him. Graney you will assist me in an operation here in Los Angeles."

Kingsley stood up to protest, his manner defiant and angry, but he was not permitted to speak. Instead an electric arc of blue fire lashed out at him, snaking from the globe held by the marble like Golem, the infernal power shaking him to the core.

The mob boss fell to his knees as the bright light engulfed him, then as it passed he gasped. "As the superior intelligence commands."

De Winters smiled. "I thought you would soon see it the Ultra Humanite's way."

-'S'-

Breakfast at the Hotel was a fraught affair, Lois was in foul mood, last night had failed to generate any leads, the G-Man Zatara had been correct, Graney, Graham and Kingsley had gone to ground since Cordell's arrest.

"Taylor isn't going to be happy." She noted. "All this way, and what do we have to show for the time and money we're spending?"

Clark received a note from the waiter. "It's from Deedee."

"Uh-huh." Lois said. "So what's it say Cowboy."

"Well not a lot, but the short if it is, we're invited to a party."

"What kind of party?"

Clark passed her the invitation. Lois read the card. "Sounds swanky." She smiled.

"Sounds like it." He agreed.

Lois tapped the card on her palm. "A party on a yacht to celebrate Dolores De Winters new contract with Colossal Studios, she must have known about this all along.

"Well this puts a new complexion on things, not the scoop I wanted but a party full of movie stars makes for a good story."

"And who knows maybe we'll get a lead on the mobsters? You know how they love to associate with glamorous movie stars." Clark suggested.

Lois laughed. "You expect too much."

Later that night crowds gathered in the Port of Los Angeles. Clark stood among the chosen few, alongside the boarding ramp of the Colossal Studios yacht, the Sea Serpent. He adjusted his bow tie.

Lois looked like she belonged here, a real movie star. Kent found himself wishing he could stand up straight, put his shoulders back and be himself, but Superman's freedom to act independently depended on his dual identity, and Clark had to remain inconspicuous, and yet among these beautiful people the mild mannered reporter felt he stood out as the exception to the Hollywood rule.

The two reporters from Metropolis were really among the Los Angeles elite tonight, Clark recognised faces from Colossal's star stable, and the other major players directors, producers and money men.

The vessel was impressive and Clark glanced over the twin masted Schooner, he did not use his enhanced vision powers to there full extent, respecting his hosts privacy. It was a decision he would regret. Clark accompanied Lois on board.

She did not need x-ray vision to see the tell tale bulges under the jackets of the crew. Most of the ships company were packing iron it seemed, given the guest list she reflected it was not surprising that security was tight.

The crowd congregated on the deck of the floating gin palace. An accomplished big band was playing the latest tunes, lanterns suspended from the rigging lit the scene. Flanking the stage either side were larger than life golden coloured masculine statues after the style of the golden statuettes which were given at the annual Academy Awards.

The party was already getting busy, when the portly but genial President of Colossal Studios joined the festivities.

"That's Harold Rudinstien." Lois said.

Clark nodded. "Looks like a gay time is going to be had by all." He said.

The large man laughed and joked with the assembled guests, before inviting Dolores De Winters to join him centre stage.

"How pleased I am to see you all here tonight." He began. "Here to welcome the delightful, delectable Dolores De Winters to our little family, here at Colossal."

"Why thank you." Dolores replied taking the microphone.

"I'd just like to say I'm grateful for your attendance here tonight, without you non of this is going to possible, with you my ambitions will come true."

"Take it away Captain."

Rudinstien looked surprised. "I suppose I am the Captain he laughed."

"Not really." De Winters replied. She took a hand gun from purse, before discarding it.

"What's this?" He laughed. "Some sort of prank?"

Clark turned to Lois. "We are under way." He watched the antics on stage, wondering like everyone else what sort of game was this?

"Huh?" She too was confused.

"The ship is moving, don't you feel it?"

Lois concentrated, she felt the low pitched throb as the ancillary diesel engine drove the schooner away from the dock.

"The ship is under way!" Some one else shouted in agreement. Others turned to look out towards the deck and the port beyond, sure enough the vessel was leaving it's berth.

"What?" Rudinstien realised something was wrong, he killed the microphone and gestured to Dolores.

"De Winters – I don't find this funny." The President of Colossal pictures was not accustomed to being surprised like this, he stepped aggressively towards the actress. "Give me that gun." His fat hand wrapeed around hers, and he pulled barrel of actresses weapon, even closer to him.

In super-time Clark heard the click of the hammer, he was at that moment still confused, was this a prank? What was Dolores doing on stage. He didn't like the answer he got.

The body of the Rudinstien blocked his normal line of sight, he had no choice but to act, dashing to the stage he raced as fast as he dare above the crowd circling around he sped to get line of sight, hoping to catch the bullet in the air with his heat vision as he flew.

The wind of his passage was knocking people aside; but he was too far from the stage to close the distance in the split seconds of time available. The yards between him and the hot metal closed, but the bullet was exiting the barrel only inches from Rudinstien.

Dolores had shot Harold Rudinstien dead in cold blood, the single round fired an angleat point blank range had entered his heart. Angrily the Man of Steel veered away skyward, there losing Clark's dinner suit in the process, and returning seconds later as Superman.

"He should not have handled my person." The Actress said coolly.

Lois felt the wind, she saw people fall randomly it seemed, and heard the gunshot. Rudinstien fell to the deck; Superman appeared. She looked for Clark, but in all the confusion he had vanished.

De Winters addressed the stunned audience. Looking directly at Superman.

"Now you are obviously aware we are beginning an unscheduled cruise." She gestured, a hand signal. Crewman mechanically drew arms, guns appeared from all quarters. "I would advise that you settle down and enjoy the hospitality provided. Co-operate and no further harm will befall any of you."

"And Superman I'm glad you could join us. I anticipated you would be keep an eye on your friends from the Metropolis Daily Star."

"Dolores what are you doing?" Superman demanded. He stared at her closely. Weighing up his options.

"Really Superman, I thought it would be obvious to you of all people; that feeble mind is no longer in control of this body.

"But let us examine this situation. You cannot stop me in this form without harming this innocent woman."

"Hepheastus." Superman spat. "The Ultra Humanite. I thought you were dead. What have you done to Dolores De Winters?"

"Yes apparently you did think that." 'De Winters' said. Behind her the larger than life statues of Oscar smoothly became animated. Screams were heard over the hushed silence, the band left their seats. The golden robots forced them to sit back down. Reluctantly the musicians obeyed.

"Automatons." Superman observed. As ever the creatures remained impervious to his gaze. The staffs the Oscar Statues carried were topped by a small globe which began to glow blue and as the signature crackling electrical energy snapped around the orbs.

'De Winters' gestured broadly. "As you can no doubt see the human crew is also mine to command. They are armed, and will not hesitate to shoot some people - if I ask them to.

"Because Superman, shooting at you is pointless, but as I just demonstrated shooting mortals _does_ get your attention.

"You have great speed and strength - but I wonder... can you grab every gun from every one of my men without there being yet more deaths? I don't think so. Yet I'd wager you are weighing up this option.

"So Superman before you decide you must take control of this vessel, you should also know I have placed bombs aboard her, which I will detonate should you fail to comply with my demands."

The Man of Steel regretted his early decision to respect their hosts privacy. Inspecting the boat thoroughly from bow to stern, he saw multiple packages of concentrated explosive; the same kind that had destroyed Luthor's Fire Bird aeroplane at the Ultra Humanities behest.

"That is monstrous." He said.

"No. Truly I have no desire to harm to any of these people, but Superman their deaths are of no importance - not in the greater scheme of things, after all would the world really be poorer place for the loss of a few actors?

"The problem is that you have no conception of what is really at stake here. If you did you would understand that sacrifices have to made."

"I don't think so."

"Superman, you are young yet." Hepheastus observed condescendingly. "Now hear me out, because today I simply require your assistance."

"Really - you need my help? Why not just ask?" Superman sternly folded his mighty arms.

Hephaestus laughed. De Winters hand waved the gun, the lips were Deedee's but the tone, the inclination was that of Hephaestus. "Perhaps, but this way I have more levers to play with."

"It is against my natural instincts to surrender to blackmail."

"Then I will simply detonate the explosive charges."

"No. Wait." He said. "I cannot permit you to kill these people, as much as it troubles me - I guess I have to listen; what is it you want Hephaestus?"

"Good. I'm glad you are being reasonable – after all you are responsible."

"I am responsible?" Superman frowned and shook his head.

"Yes Superman! Thrice responcible! Blast you! First you defeat my Hyperion Generator, brake my control over that engine of chaos, destroying it. You have no conception of the forces you are dealing with, that are being unleashed, I tell you soon enough the world will burn, and then you will understand the necessity of sacrifce."

The Man of Tomorrow had no idea what Hepheastus meant by this.

Lois Lane pushing forward demanded. "How did you survive? What have you done to Dolores?"

"Ah Miss Lane, ever the reporter.

"De Winters is contained by my superior intelligence, but this situation is grave for her as it is for me, the longer we co-exist the more certain the stronger personality will extinguish the weaker.

"As for my survival. It is for your mind – complicated.

"Let us say the purpose of the machine that exploded deep within the Metro Hills was more than a simple engine of power."

"There is nothing left of that place but a great big hole." Superman observed. "Your escape was nothing less than miraculous."

"And that surprises you Man of Steel? Am I not god?" Hepheastus replied in all seriousness. Saying. "I shall cut to the chase - Superman; you must obtain for me another Hyperion Generator.

"I would not ask you, but as I was explaining - _secondly_ you destroyed my Adamantine, the only automaton capable of retrieving the artefact in question."

"What would you do with another engine?" Lois demanded.

"Why Miss Lane, I would return to Earth.

"You see Superman the purpose of the Hyperion Generator is bend space time, to create hyper space, to permit a space craft to travel between two points faster than light.

"When you broke my engine you began an uncontrolled reaction followed by the explosion, the blast you assumed destroyed me.

"But moments before this catastrophe, the Hyperion Generator created for a brief moment a hyper space bubble."

Lois looked bewildered. The assembled audience of the Colossal Studio's great and good were aghast. Nothing Dolores De Winters said or did made any sense to them at all, guns however held them at bay, as the crew who had minutes ago being serving them drinks and canapes now held them all captive.

Hephaestus continued to explain. "My Superior Intelligence had anticipated an escape plan, in the event of an uncontrolled reaction occurring. This mechanism was able to automatically use the hyper space bubble. It acted as a doorway if you will, a means to shift me bodily to alternative plain of existence, which the ancients called the Hesperides realm, among other names.

"Unfortunately I cannot remain here, for reasons I have neither time nor the inclination to discuss. Let it be said I require an artefact – the generator – to make another doorway from there to here.

"So Superman forgive this rude pact, simply if you provide me with a Hyperion Generator, I will release everyone, even De Winters."

"Forgive me if I am a little sceptical. Kidnap, blackmail, kind of do that for me." Superman stated.

"Indeed, I would not expect otherwise; but think of this challenge in this sense – you are simply giving back to me, that which I already possessed."

"Which was more than enough to do great harm."

"I know you see me as a monster Superman, but you are wrong. You may not approve of my methods, but the ends justify the means, that I can promise you.

"I am not however unreasonable. As an act of good faith on my part, I will not only release these people in exchange for assistance, but I will give to you the means to cure the disease which even now ravages through Metropolis."

"Then you are responsible for this as well?" Superman anger grew.

"No. Arguably you are.

"You vandalised my laboratory, forced me to leave this realm. So yes _thirdly_, your actions left my science in the hands of thieves.

"I do not accept your logic Hephaestus."

"Come Superman, let us not split hairs. Give me your word and I will release these actors to the life boats, and when you give me the Generator I will tell you how to save many more lives from the plague the Consortium has unleashed in Metropolis."

Superman considered the Ultra Humanite's bargain. "Very well, where is this Hyperin Generator?" He asked.

"It is a simple matter for one as powerful as you are. To the South East lays California's Mount Diablo, beneath the larger of the twin peaks, at considerable depth is a cavern, within that cave system is concealed a space ship, within that ship there is a Hyperion Generator."

"How is that possible?" Lois demanded, again amazed by the crippled god's bizarre claims.

"How it comes to be concealed there is not important." De Winters replied dismissively for the Ultra Humanite saying. "You Superman must tunnel to it, and then bring the engine to me."

"And if I agree now, and give you my word - you say you will release the hostages?"

"With the exception of Lois Lane, and of course this body, this Dolores De Winters. Is it not fitting that we should revisit our previous encounter?"

Superman considered this situation, with so many lives at stake his hand was forced in making this devils bargain.

"Very well I will fetch you your generator – you have my word – provided you keep yours."

"Good. I have for you a device." The Ultra Humanite indicated to one of minions. The crewman delivered a helmet into the actresses hands.

"Wear this Superman." Hepheastus's commanded.

Superman took the golden helm from Deedee's hand. "What is this thing?" He asked, looking over the bizarre headpiece, central was a large circular diamond like stone.

"It is necessary for you to wear this helmet. It will allow me to direct you as travel, it is a two way communications device – it will transmit both images and sound to me, and in turn allow me to speak to you.

Superman hesitated.

"Come now, without my helping you, directing you - you will not be able to complete your task; don't you want me to release these people?"

Superman placed the close fitting helmet on his head, and felt no ill effect, removed it, and then replaced in on his head again. The Ultra Humanite smiled with Dolores's lips.

"Now release the hostages." Superman told him.

De Winters nodded and issued the Ultra Humanite's command. The crew began herding the frightened crowd into the life boats. The Port of Los Angeles was still in sight, but the ship was pressing a course away from shore.

Satisfied that Hephaestus was keeping the first part of the bargain Superman turned to Lois.

"I will return for you, for you both, I promise."

She nodded, and then she embraced him, her lips pressed to his. This was no screen kiss, it was one of passion and fire. "Be careful Superman." She said. "I don't trust him."

"Neither do I Lois, neither do I."

"To Mount Diablo it is then." He said, then with a flash of red blue the caped man shot skyward. There high above the Sea Serpent, Superman hovered observing the life boats entering the water.

Then from the helms advanced circuitry came a voice. "I expected you to wait and see that I honoured my promise." The words seemed to echo inside his head. It was not the voice of Dolores that spoke to him now, but rather the older and deeper tones of the Ultra Humanite's true from that he heard.

Superman was doing exactly that, as he hung above the water the Man of Tomorrow searched the Schooner making sure only the crew, Lois and the possessed body of Dolores remained on board. The Sea Serpent continued sailing on a course that too it away from the smaller boats laden with distressed party goers, out into deeper waters.

Satisfied at least that this part of the devils bargain had be honoured Superman accelerated towards Mount Diablo in Contra Costa County, he hurtled into the San Francisco Bay Area, and as he approached the Main peak Hephaestus's voice guided him like a missile.

Atop the highest peak the Man of Tomorrow spied the construction site which was to be a visitor centre for the State Park, that had been created to protect the mountain scape, of this California's highest peak.

Diving Superman hit the dirt, his hands churning soil and rock aside. Machine like the man of steel repetitively excavated the spoil backwards compacting the tunnel as he excavated into the rock itself. Grinding his invulnerable hands through the grey sandstone, pummelling the harder green volcanic basalts; tunnelling down through the hard red Franciscan chert, its sedimentary origins revealed to him in the rich microscopic fossils, that his super eyes could see.

All the time concentrating his incredible vision powers forward through the darkness searching for the promised cavern, then spying the black void he dragged his way through the last few hundred feet breaking into in the ancient cave system deep beneath Diablo's mount.

There in the darkness Superman was able to see clearly due to his ability to both emit and recieve light energy. Moment's later the gem on the Ultra Humanites golden Helm sent out a beam of white light.

Superman chose not to comment on the usefulness of this, as it was for the benefit of the mechanism that transmitted images of the cavern back to Hephaestus, listening to his direction the Man of Tomorrow sought out the prize.

There lay the vessel, an ancient space ship built by the descendants of men, space travellers from the distant future, how it had come to be buried deep beneath Earth's surface perplexed Superman; but these questions were secondary.

He flew towards the craft, stopping before its dark obsidian hull.

"Why do you hesitate?" Hephaestus demanded.

"There is an energy field around the craft." Superman replied. More over he could not see through the dark metal of the strange ship.

The Ultra Humanite laughed. "That is true, I am impressed you are able to see it."

"Then what of this?" Superman reached out towards the nominally invisible barrier.

"I will broadcast a entry code, that will allow you to pass through."

"An entry code?"

"My kind constructed these vessels in space Superman, I have intimate knowledge of the complexities involved."

Superman waited, he observed the field shimmer and alter in tone, and then with Hephaestus's confirmation he strode through the sparkling envelope and stood feet away from the obsidian cylinder. Like a flattened cone the craft rested on three struts which in turn extended to differing lengths touching ground on the uneven rock floor, levelling the craft they supported.

"Now what?" He asked

"Wait while I activate the ships dormant systems."

"They appear active."

"What?" The remote voice demanded.

Beyond partitions slid open in the crafts hull and strange emanations erupted, like a high pitched scream that caused Superman to grit his teeth and cover his ears. Then from out the rock floor as if rising from the grave three figures emerged incandescent in the darkness, burning fiery beings.

When the screaming ship fell quiet, Superman swiftly asked. "What in the world are those?"

"It should not be!" Hephaestus spat. "Not here."

"What is going on?" Superman demanded.

"Cronus. Damn him. These are his doing; Chthonic Furies."

Three grossly distorted feminine forms, with spreading bat like wings, bodies like cooling lava flows black and burning red veins of fire criss-crossing their muscular bronze body forms.

"Cronus – who is Cronus?" Superman exclaimed, as bolt of flaming lightening whipped past him, causing him to dive aside. The electrical energy had supernatural substance and like a phosphorescent bull whip, the leading entity wielded the weapon barbed as it was by vibrant electrical spikes.

"Mortal you are guilty of desecrating this tomb of the gods, for your insolence you must die." Superman found the helm of Hephaestus translated the ancient language of the beings of vengeance. It was ancient Greek to him.

"What have you made me do?" Superman demanded of the Ultra Humanite.

"This is an unfortunate turn of events." Hephaestus replied coldly. "Never the less Superman our bargain stands, you must retrieve the Hyperion Generator from this vessel."

"Mortal prepare to meet thy Doom!" The Furies called out their howling battle cry.

The two other immortals carried differing weapons, all had short swords, but besides the first Fury's fiery whip of retribution, the second carried a lance whose tip glowed white hot, the other carried a flaming axe.

"Now would be a good time to open the ship." Superman told the Ultra Humanite.

"I'm attempting to do that, but someone has changed the access codes."

The spear wielding Fury charged, her speed was great but not fast enough, Superman stood aside grasping the spear in his hands, he felt the heat of its glowing tip as his fingers wrapped around the long shaft, levering upwards he hurled the Fury off her feet propelling the startled creature into the darkness. The Fury had not expected him to be as strong. There was dull thud and burst of light as the surprised supernatural warrior contacted the space ships defensive energy shield, which acting like a charged impenetrable wall sent alien energies coursing through the magical creatures body.

The Fury fell to earth a smoking limp body, it moved hesitatingly showing it still possessed the semblance of life it's mysterious creator Cronus had given it, but like a stunned boxer it lay near motionless out for the count. Superman swiftly tucked her spear under the prostrate creature and wrapped the strangle metal around her body pinning her arms about her chest, and fixing her wings to her back.

Seeing their companion felled, seeing the Man of Steel fold the metal of her weapon into a means of imprisonment, the remaining warriors, skirted Superman with greater care.

"See sister." Said the First. "This is no mere mortal, he has the power of Heracles."

"Worthy is our foe this day." Said the Third Fury.

"For Cronus!" They yelled together and charged.

Superman cried out as he caught the whip, his hand took hold of livid electrical cord, finding the same wrapping around his arm, it stung him with magical fire, in anger and pain he pulled the Fury towards him, turning as he did so lifting her into the air, the Third Fury cunningly altered her attack at the last moment dodging his open hand punch, and swung her axe against him.

Winded Superman flew backwards into the electrical shield that entrapped them, the First fury was airborne, dragged upwards by the Man of Steel mighty grasp of her whip and hurtling in like fashion the First Fury flew to the same end but at the opposite side of the craft. Realising her plight she let go the whip and with her wings fully extended took flight, slowing and twisting enough to avoid contact with the space craft's energy shield.

Through gritted teeth the man of tomorrow stopped dead in the air above the ship, angrily he tore the whip from his arm hurling backwards and against the shield. The magic weapon contacted the energy field and resulting explosion shook him to the core driving him stunned to rock floor.

Shaking himself conscious he rolled to one side as the third Fury drove her axe at his head, hitting rock beside him, his mighty hand wrenched the axe away from her, his foot simultaneously pushing her backwards. Superman hurled the axe upwards at the dome of the energy shield, his throw was harder and faster than for the whip. The axe crashed noisily and with an explosive burst of light followed it as the weapon punctuated the force field, driven by Superman's toss. It flew onwards to embed itself deeply into the rock of the outer cavern wall.

Meanwhile the First Fury flew down at him, and Superman leapt up to meet her.

"You are swift of foot as the trickster Hermes!" She spat.

"No I'm Superman."

He drove her back, her wing beats unable to counter the Man of Steels missile like trajectory, against the force shield. There was explosive contact between magical being and technological energy field, one that threw both Superman and the Fury hard to bedrock, but of the two fallen figures, only Superman got up from the rocky floor of this dark gladiatorial arena created by the extremis of the energy shield.

Only one Fury remained. She having lost her axe, drew the short sword by her side, and charged him taking to the air as she hurtled directly towards the man of tomorrow. Superman's hand caught the sword as she drove it down towards the base of his neck. He winced as the magical blade cut into his palm, drawing blood, but he held her fast and landed a series of super speed jabs to her chin, with each successive blow Superman punched harder, eventually super hard, until the Fury was spent, and she fell unconscious at his feet.

"So Hephaestus." Superman asked. "Have you managed to find a way inside this tin can, or do I have make like an opener and tear my way in." He held his left hand in a fist, stemming the blood flow from his wound.

"No!" Came the voice of the crippled god through the golden helm. "Do not use violence – the ship will destroy itself if the hull is compromised.

"Wait I am almost finished, the codes have been changed, but I have almost broken them."

Superman looked at the deep cut in his hand. He looked to each of the fallen Furies only the first which he trapped with her own twisted spear seemed conscious, and that said, only barely.

Above him he heard the whirr of motors as a section of the ship extended and descended creating a ramp way into the hull. Clearly the Ultra Humanite had been successful.

He did not need Hephaestus to tell him that he should enter. That was why he was here.

Inside the space ship he was surprised to see very little sign of anything approaching comfort, it was sterile box, composed of many interlinking components. Now he was within the obsidian carcass you could see them with his enhanced vision abilities, and yet he was no wiser as to how the futuristic space craft functioned.

The panel ahead of him lit up with alien symbols and then a panel slid outwards revealing a cylinder shaped object that disappeared horizontally into the ship.

"That is the generator, take hold of the release handle and draw it to yourself." Hephaestus instructed.

Superman reached with his uninjured hand and drew the cylinder out of its channel, the width of standard barrel but about twice the length. Incongruously the device weighed far more than its size suggested, even if it had been solid steel, forcing Superman to use his injured hand. As he withdrew the Hyperion Generator from it's channel the ships interior light dimmed.

"You must exit immediately, the craft is powering down." The crippled god informed him.

Superman hefted the cylinder onto his shoulder and descended to the rocky floor of the cavern, the energy shield had vanished, the ship devoid of the generator was unable to maintain the incredible force field. Behind him the ramp closed sealing the ship once more.

What was more surprising the creatures he had battled had vanished. "Where are the Chthonic Furies?" He asked the voice of Hephaestus.

The disembodied Ultra Humanite replied. "They were present here only because their master was able to remotely access the Hyperion Generator. Cronus opened a window between his world and this Earth. Once the Generator was deactivated they were snatched back into their own world."

"Much like you were." Superman observed.

Hephaestus was notably silent. The Man of Tomorrow wondered whether it was not so much an escape plan that had saved Hephaestus from the explosion under his mansion - was it rather his nature? Did he - like these monsterous furies - require the power of a Hyperion Generator to exist in the real world?

Seconds later Superman began enlarging his tunnel to the surface. Spinning around, while driving back and upwards he created a shaft the width of his span, and then hurtling back into the darkness he recovered the Hyperion Generator.

Leaving Mount Diablo with the artefact on his shoulder, Superman ensured a rock fall covered and concealed the tunnel he had dug under tons and tons of stone and debris. Then carrying the heavy artefact he flew north west out towards the Sea Serpents last position.

Through the golden Helm he received different instructions, Hephaestus was no longer on the Schooner.

Superman swung back towards the coast, following the directions he had been given. Plunging under water Superman swam into a hidden cave system. His super vision identifying the hidden installation behind the rocky cliff walls.

Beneath them the Man of Tomorrow surfaced next to a submarine which he swiftly determined to be Japanese in origin. Her crew however did not belong to one nation, judging by cosmopolitan types who served the Crippled god. The boat had somehow fallen into the hands of the Ultra Humanite's organisation.

Superman expected that the Sea Serpent had been abandoned at sea, perhaps sunk. Among the people here were her crew – commanded by the possessed Dolores, along with Lois Lane. They could only have been transferred to the submarine to make their escape to this hidden undersea lair.

Superman's arrival was watched by Ultra Humanite in the body of De Winters.

The Man of Steel burst out of the dark waters, and onto the concrete dock. Above electric lamps lit the rocky underground port.

Dolores smiled a smile not her own as Superman lay the device on the hard grey floor before her.

"Thank you Superman."

"Where is Lois?" He asked.

On cue he heard her muffled complaints, as the tied and gagged reporter was brought through from an adjoining chamber by Hephaestus's henchmen; they released the girl reporter, and she ran to Superman throwing her arms around him, embracing him.

From beyond them, from yet another cave, two of the Ultra Humanite's Automaton's appeared and lifted the heavy generator onto a buggy and then they slowly wheeled the device into what was clearly some sort of train like vehicle, Superman could see tracks leading miles into the bed rock, the tunnel showed signs of been excavated by great heat, and he was reminded the fiery engine that had been the Adamantine.

De winters then held out a vial. "This contains a inoculation against the disease Metropolis is calling the Purple Plague. Take this to a man called Danvers, a Professor of Medicine at Metropolis University Hospital. He alone has the intelligence to manufacture a treatment for the sick from this agent."

Superman took the vial. "Hardly the cure you promised."

De Winters shrugged. Hephaestus said in her voice. "It is what I have. My need was to prevent my people from being infected, not cure the actual disease."

"What of Dolores. When will you release her."

"When I have integrated this generator into my... equipment. When I am free again."

"Am I expected to wait?" Superman snapped. Angry that he had been forced to play by Hephaestus's rules.

"You are free to wait here for her release – if that is your wish. It will take some time hours, perhaps days.

"Or Superman you can take the vial I have just given you to Metropolis, to Danvers, and begin immediately developing a cure. For as we talk hundreds, perhaps even thousands, lay dying."

"You are a monster." Lois spat.

"I am a god Miss Lane. To some that _is_ a monster perhaps, god's have the power of life and death, god's make choices mortal cannot understand, but as a god I am not answerable to you."

"I will hold you to your promise Hephaestus. You _will_ release Dolores De Winters, or I will come to whichever world you hide in and forcefully bring you back, by my word - I will ensure justice is done."

De Winters mouth curved into Hephaestus's smile. "I would expect nothing less from you Superman."

Superman took off his cloak and stretching around Lois wrapped her in it. "This will keep you safe." He said.

"I will be back." Superman declared to Hephaestus.

Then he dived into the water. Lois was protected and kept dry inside Kyrptonian fabric with more enough air trapped for her to breathe in the moments they were beneath the sea, then as Superman charged skywards he adjusted the cape so her face was revealed, but still protected from the wind that whipped past her as Superman accelerated beginning his transcontinental dash back to Metropolis

"Do you believe the Ultra Humanite will release Dolores?" Lois asked him.

"If he doesn't he will live to regret it." Superman replied.


	34. Chapter 34

Lois Lane couldn't believe it. Superman came to rest putting her down inside the quadrangle of Metropolis University. It had taken a little less than a hour for him to cross the continental United States, carrying her wrapped in his cloak, entirely protected from the harsh and very hot reality of super speed flight, but now he was already making his leave.

"Do you know this Doctor Danvers?" he asked her.

"No, medicine wasn't my discipline at Met U."

"Wait here."

Superman disappeared in a flash of red and blue.

He returned almost immediately. "It's late in the day here, I can't find anyone matching his description on site."

"What are we going to do."

"Well you're going to go back to the Star Building, and you are going to stay away from this story - epidemic, until I can establish the serum the Ultra Humanite gave me is all that he claims."

"Don't worry Superman I'm a curious girl, but not _that_ curious, I'll keep clear of Little Bohemia."

"I hope so Lois, I don't want to find myself wishing I'd left you with Mr Kent in Los Angeles." The Man of Tomorrow took to the air.

Superman using his incredible vision powers on the Doctors office had established Danver's address, and he quickly crossed town to 211 Terrace Avenue. Seeing the Police were in attendance Superman switched to his civilian alter-ego of Mr Smith, since Clark Kent could not be seen to be in Metropolis; he was still understood to be in Los Angeles.

The arrival of an ambulance moments later confirmed Superman's diagnosis, Doctor Danvers was a mass or purple blotches, and he was oblivious to his surroundings.

"I'm with the Star." Superman flashed Kent's Press card, his finger obscuring Clark's name. "What's happening?"

The doctor in attendance looked grave. He blocked Superman's path. "Please don't come any closer."

"That's Professor Danvers isn't it?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I hoped to interview him, about the Purple Plague."

"Ah. Yes I see." The Doctor nodded. "Danvers was one of the first to visit the outbreak in Little Bohemia, and like everyone who went with him, it appears he too has contracted the condition."

Superman frowned deeply. "I had hoped the good doctor might be the best man to solve this riddle."

"Yes, he is a brilliant man, but his condition is an indication of the diseases contagious nature, I must insist you stay where you are."

Superman considered this. "Is there anyone else who might be able to help me? For an interview I mean?"

"We're all pretty busy, as you must know."

"Come on – give a guy a break."

The Doctor frowned, and then sighing anxious to get rid of the reporter he said. "Danver's has an assistant a Dr Henry Travers, you always could try him, now if you don't mind I'm busy!"

Superman recalled the name Travers. He had seen him listed back at Metropolis University Hospital. Moments later Mr Smith was knocking on Traver's apartment door, the researcher lived on campus, not far from the Medical School were he worked.

The young scientist seemed happy to talk, but deeply saddened to hear of his colleagues condition. Travers invited Smith into his campus apartment, offering Superman a seat, the researcher began to explain how Danvers had brought samples back to the lab for him to prepare and examine.

"I have a theory regarding this gruesome plague would you care to hear it?"

"Would I ever! Shoot."

"I'm sure you have heard of the Black death that swept across Europe in the middle ages?"

Superman nodded.

Travers continued. "Mankind was blighted by this plague, we now know it was a bacteria called Pasteurella pestis, carried by fleas who lived on rats. When I examined the samples Doctor Danvers brought back from Little Bohemia, I recognised the bacterium was almost identical to Pasteurella pestis; it is my hypothesis that the Black Death and Purple Plague are related."

"But what can we do about stamping the Purple Plague out?"

"I've been conducting experiments on this basis. Would you like to see what I've accomplished? I was thinking your readers would feel reassured if they knew someone had a working theory on how to as you say 'stamp out' this disease."

"You bet I would, and you're right the public need hope."

Later in the University Medical Research Building, Travers showed Mr Smith some of his prepared slides. Superman appeared to use the microscope.

"Interesting." He said. "But I have something for you." He passed Travers the vile containing the inoculation.

"What is this."

"I'm told it's an inoculation against the Purple Plague."

"What? Where did you get this? How is that possible?"

"My source is Superman. Perhaps you've heard of..."

"Yes I've heard of him, can't say I believe any of it."

"Look Travers, I'll level with you, this plague isn't natural, according to Superman's sources it's germ warfare, and the people responsible developed this serum to protect themselves. Superman wanted me to get Danvers to develop a treatment using this."

Travers looked at the vial. "A germ weapon you say." Travers shook with anger. "That is an evil thing for anyone to do, but that someone would go ahead and do it - that surprises me far less than the idea your friend Superman is the real deal.

"I assure Superman is real."

Travers said. "Okay. Let's think about this. Basically _if_ this is genuine and _if_ it can be successfully mass produced, then this vaccine might avert a disaster of biblical proportions; but we would have to act now to stop a city wide infection. Heck it might even be too late for that.""

Smith nodded. "Yes, but from what I'm told – according to the man who gave Superman that vaccine, we can expect everyone who has been infected to die. The way I see it we need a cure for sickness as well as a inoculation against the disease."

Travers shrugged. "I don't know if that's possible." He said cautiously.

Smith continued. "Look this disease is highly contagious. I've been told there is a phase where the infected remain healthy enough, but are infectious - passing on the disease; do I need point out Dr Travers you and everyone who worked with Danvers may now be carriers yourselves?"

The Doctor hit the lab table in anger. "It's a death sentence - is that it Mr Smith? Can't say I'm surprised; if this is a germ warfare agent then that is a profile I would expect."

"Doctor, Superman was really counting on Danvers being able to develop a treatment, one that will cure someone already infected - do you realise how many apparently healthy people could die?"

"You mean apart from me? I don't know... the whole city maybe?" Travers sighed. "Okay Smith I'll level with you - the truth is I think we _can_ do this." Travers explained. "There is a new treatment for bacterial infections.

"Just this year Rene Dubos has isolated gramicidin, a substance from soil bacteria that might be of use; it just so happens Danvers and I have been working on filamentous soil bacterium, we've had some interesting results."

Superman nodded. "I recall last year reading research papers by Doctors, Florey and Chain, based on discoveries made back in the twenties by Sir Alexander Fleming."

"Exactly." Travers nodded. "You are man of science Mr Smith."

"I have an interest in these matters." Superman replied. "Assuming your anti-bacterial agents can work against the Purple Plague, what would you need to mass produce a treatment?"

"Vats for fermentation, growth medium, errm... I mean a defined carbon source and nitrogen source. Glucose say, and ammonium salts or nitrates as inorganic nitrogen sources. Nothing too exotic."

"Okay Doctor you get to work on extracting a suitable counter agent from the soil bacterium, and I'll work on getting a production site ready."

"You can do that?"

Superman smiled. "I know a man who can."

Metropolis had been built to a plan as the city of tomorrow, but not even the shining Golden Apple had avoided the Great Depression, and the scars of that economic crisis lingered, especially visible on the industrial Eastside.

Superman honed in on the short lived business that had been Fareham Brothers Brewers. The paint pealed from once brightly coloured signs, but within the modern industrial building great brewing vats remained abandoned.

Superman set about adapting and recommissioning the brewing system with a view to fermentation, not of yeast in a solution of barley and hops, but rather of bacterium to create an agent to counteract the cruel Purple Plague.

Super strength, and heat vision twisted and wielded, while super speed cleaned and checked the ancillary systems. Superman laboured into the night, just a Dr Travers studied, and tested in his laboratory across the city.

-'S'-

Lois Lane read her own byline under the banner Headline, Colossal Studio Murder Kidnap Horror. Moments later the City Hall Press Conference got under way.

The Mayor stood shoulder to shoulder with the portly Chief of Police. Who spoke at length about the quarantine measures the city had introduced, once the disease had been recognised, and how the Police had succeeded in sealing off the Little Bohemia district of Metropolis.

Mayor Hansen went on to thank the Police, noting the importance of maintaining order, and that panic be avoided, he confidently presented the disease as something his administration was ready and able to handle. He then threw the room open for a questions and answer session.

Lois stood up and caught the Mayors eye.

"Mr Mayor, isn't it true you have received a ransom demand, from persons unknown, who claim not only to be responsible for the Purple Plague, but who claim to be able to cure this disease in exchange for five million dollars?"

The room exploded with loud mutters, and camera's flashed around about her. The Mayor went white and then red with anger.

"I won't comment on scurrilous rumours Miss Lane. You should know better than to repeat them."

"Then you deny it?" She pressed. "Come sir, yes or no."

"I, err, I mean..."

"If you would permit me Mayor, to answer this question." Superman said. The Man of Tomorrow appeared magically beside Hansen, only an open window evidenced his flight into the auditorium.

"Superman..." The Mayor stuttered.

Again the room exploded in even louder shouts, as questions were fired randomly by the assembled reporters.

Superman spoke commandingly, his deep tones clearly audible above the racket. "Ladies, Gentlemen, please, the Mayor is not in a position to comment on the validity of the demands made to him, where as I can. I have been working with a Dr Travers of Metropolis University and together we have formulated a response to the Purple Plague.

"What is important for today, is not the origin of this disease, rather that Dr Travers believes he has both a vaccine to inoculate against it and viable treatment for those who are already sick. Ladies and Gentlemen, Metropolis is safe, if we all work together.

"Now if you would excuse us, Mayor Hansen, the Chief of Police, and I must speak further in private. Thank you for your time."

"Superman!" Lois called out.

The Man of Steel waved in general direction of the Press, but he looked across at her and winked.

Inside the Mayor's office Superman stood and waited for the flustered politician to pour himself a drink and sit down.

"Is what you say true?" Mayor Hansen asked finally.

"Yes, you should obviously consult with Metropolis University. Dr Travers has organised a team there." Superman gestured to the young scientist.

"How the blazes did he get in here." Hansen spluttered finally noticing the young researcher.

Travers smiled. "Superman let me in, before he joined you in the auditorium."

The Chief of Police made himself heard. "How is it Superman, that you can do this? How do we know that it isn't you and Travers fella who aren't responsible for cooking this up in the first place?"

"Well we're doing this for the good the city, the country, whereas we all know the Consortium is asking for five million dollars for a solution. If you have any doubts about me - I'd advise you to speak with Federal Agent Giovanni Zatara." Superman replied. Adding to the Mayor.

"Also sir. I need you to sign off on the requisition of the redundant Fareham Brothers Brewers Works on the Eastside, for the mass manufacture of the agent."

"Do we have the time?" The mayor coughed nervously.

Travers answered. "We don't have a choice.

"Look when you get sick, the disease disables, there is delerium, you slip away, but the progression is slow.

"If we start treating the most at risk; the very old, the very young, those already weakened by pre-existing conditions, then we can start saving lives. My team has made up the initial batches of the medicine at Met U Medical Lab's."

"What you are saying is if we pioritise treatment in this way we can hold off treating the fitter cases because they're not in imeediate danger?"

"Yes - but at the same time we need the city to organise a mass vaccination program that will halt the spread of the disease."

Superman added. "We also need you to instruct Forrester Chemicals to assist us. Only they have the quanties of materials and triained staff to man the Fareham Brothers plant." Then he addressed the Chief of Police. "And we'll need men stationed at and around the brewery site, and Met U. We don't want anything to go wrong."

The Chief of Police looked angry, but he nodded. Saying. "I know Kingsley and Graham are back in Metropolis, and I also know they are leading figures in the Consortium. So yes - we'll need to proctect these places."

The Mayor seemed at last to reach a decision. "Very Well Gentlemen, I'll make those requisitions now. Let's get to it."

Some time later the hungry press pack was treated to a second unscheduled instalment of the Mayor's 'Plague' Press Conference, where he and Doctor Travers explained that the city had a plan.

South of the city Beta Reynolds listened to Metro Wave Radio, the details of the Mayor's initiative to combat the Plague was broadcast. He drank his coffee as considered this unexpected turn of events.

Angrily he returned to work in his laboratory, taking in hand a sample labelled 'Purple Death II'. Lex Luthor noted his actions and smiled.

Meanwhile Lois Lane returned to the Daily Star building with her report from the Mayor's Press Conference.

George Taylor called her through to his office.

"That sure was a great story you brought back from Hollywood." he said. "It shifted plenty of papers this morning – good work kid."

"Thanks Chief.

"Just a shame about De Winters."

"I'm sure Superman is on the case."

Taylor nodded. "Well you did her more than favour, by making it clear that it wasn't really the actress, but only someone _appearing_ to be her that was responsible for murder and kidnapping."

"Least I could do, since you told me the mind control angle wasn't 'right' for the story."

Taylor blew smoke. "I know.

"You think I'm not serving the truth by shutting down the incredible elements in these stories, but as I told you things are not that simple, especially now.

"Besides hundreds of people have seen Superman up close, but still there are lot of people in Metropolis that don't believe a man can fly. So I'm not ready to try and sell voodoo-hoodoo mind control to our readers just yet."

"Well Chief I _do_ understand, I think an old soldier has maybe received his reactivation orders."

Taylor stuck to a poker face response. "I need you on the case too, the case in question being the story you and Kent left hanging to run away to LA."

"The shoddy building work?"

"The same."

"Clark sent a sample to Metropolis University, I called them but they weren't being helpful, Purple Plague chaos I reckon, either way Clark won't be back until tomorrow, so I was thinking of following up on the Purple Plague story some more."

"I don't want any of my people going anywhere near Little Bohemia, not until they get that shot the Mayor is organising."

"Well Chief, that was kind of the angle I was thinking of, I mean where and how is this mass vaccination going to be organised? Where are the people going to go?"

"Okay Lois that sounds good enough. Get to it Kiddo."

-'S'-

Lex Luthor greeted the delegation. The group of well dressed Europeans entered the traditional farmhouse possessing a stiff military bearing. They spoke German to each other, although their spoken English was faultless.

"We are here to meet with Doctor Reynolds."

"I regret that won't be possible." Lex told the tall blond man, who seemed to be the leader among them.

"Who are you – and where is Reynolds?" He snapped back.

"I am Lex Luthor; and as I told you it is impossible for you to meet him."

There was flurry of conversation in German.

"That is not satisfactory, we have come a great distance, at great personal inconvenience."

Another man came forward. "You are Lex Luthor, the scientist, the aero-engineer?"

"The same."

"Forgive me you are... different."

"I have gained a little weight." Luthor replied. He did not address the most obvious change in appearance, the loss of his full head of red hair.

"I am Wolfgang Bauer." The second man introduced himself. "And this gentlemen is Wilhelm Leichlingen."

The tall blond man snapped his head down in a curt nod.

"Forgive the direct question Doctor Luthor, but where is your colleague?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not at liberty to... ah!"

"I'm sorry to have to press this point." Leichlingen stated. He didn't sound sorry, and his Automatic Luger pistol, drawn smoothly from his pocket made his point emphatically.

"A German military issue handgun, military bearing, I assume you are in fact an officer in the Wehrmacht?"

The tall man smiled, saying. "Hauptsturmführer Wilhelm Leichlingen. You are smart man Doctor Luthor." The blond man noted coolly.

"Not Wehrmacht, but SS. I am not surprised." Luthor observed. "I must say you look a little uncomfortable out of uniform."

The SS Captain frowned and raised his gun.

Luthor continued saying. "I will take you to see Doctor Reynolds. However Hauptsturmführer you will see immediately that I have not been intentionally obstructive."

Luthor led the Germans from the farm house across to the barn complex, then through the mock agricultural outer building and into the concealed clinical laboratories within.

Finally beyond these rooms, the men entered a series of isolation chambers, stopping by the first of these, the Germans were able to see through the thick toughened glass window into the sparse interior, there was a single figure laying motionless in a hospital bed.

Luthor pointed the man within, his skin discoloured by purple lesions.

"This unfortunate is Reynolds." He said.

"How can this be?" The Hauptsturmführer demanded. Saying. "Only yesterday we learned that the Mayor of Metropolis claims to have in place a plan of action to counter this Purple Death!

"How is this that the Herr Doctor has succumbed?"

"While working with the bacterial agent - conducting research you understand. I recently discovered a far more virulent sub-strain. Unfortunately my colleague was working with this pathogen, and accidentally exposed himself. This version of the Plague is extremely virulent, and I regreat my attempts at curing him have failed."

"Will he live?" Bauer asked.

"No, no more that a few more hours at best, the coma is irreversible."

"Then you alone are in possession of his research?" Leichlingen asked.

"_His_ research? I suspect we are both aware Reynolds was but an agent himself of another man. I speak of the Ultra Humanite."

The Nazi nodded, and finally pocketed the Luger. "What do you know of him?" He asked.

Luthor laughed. "The Ultra Humanite approached me while I working for Scott Cambell.

"He introduced me to the work of an Englishman, Frank Whittle, who had proposed, oh some ten years ago, a design for an aero-engine that would make possible both extreme high altitude and supersonic flight."

The Nazi sneered. Lex continued.

"Despite my own work on the Fire Bird Interceptor project the Ultra Humanite convinced me that reciprocating engines, having hundreds of parts jerking to and fro, were exhausted as a means of propelling aircraft faster and higher.

"I knew he was right, that I was pushing the limits of piston engine design, even with my twin screw supercharger, and I knew I could not make my planes more powerful without over complication.

"Gentlemen, the engine of the future must produce 2,000 horse-power with one moving part; just as Whittle proposed - a spinning turbine and compressor; but I suspect you know this."

"You are remarkably well informed." Hauptsturmführer Leichlingen observed.

"As are you, since you seem aware of these facts." Luthor noted the Germans did not question his observations, confirming his suspicions. He then said.

"Yet the British Establishment was typically uninterested.

"Had they shown foresight the R.A.F would already have jet engined fighter aircraft, instead as I suspect we all know – it is Germany that is now flying the first of these 'jet' planes."

The Nazi stiffened. "You are correct Herr Luthor. We are Sonderkommando; we are a special operations division, charged with acquiring new sciences to further the Party.

"That was why we were interested in your plane, improving our own proven conventional designs still has merit."

Luthor smiled.

The blond man continued. "Then am I to understand you were made aware of the Ultra Humanite's plan to seize the Fire Bird interceptor?"

"Of course. I myself augmented the design to make the theft possible."

Bauer interjected. "Yet you were injured in the theft."

Luthor nodded. "Things did not according to plan, the operative selected by the Ultra Humanite acted too soon, I was caught with the plane."

"With a young woman." Bauer chuckled.

Luthor pointedly ignored the remark. "The operative – obviously - was not aware of my part in the plan to liberate my plane.

"When he attacked me, he did so believing me to be an obstacle to his mission."

"And yet this mission failed." The SS officer said coldly. "Your plane was stopped by a _man_."

Luthor scowled. "I am all too aware of that."

"And your injuries affected your mind." The German pressed the bald Scientist.

"Do I seem unwell?" Lex snapped back. "I assure you that I am fully recovered from the head injury I recieved."

The Hauptsturmführer stroked his chin. "So what do you know of this _flying man_."

Luthor laughed again. "I thought it strange Germany remained so interested in maintaining links to the Metropolis Consortium, a group of miscreants who failed deliver." He then added with venom. "Can it be that your interest in doing business in Metropolis is solely because of the Metropolis Marvel? This Superman?

"You come here - because he is here - and because you believe the Ultra Humanite is uniquely able to assist you in understanding how a man might fly?"

The blond SS Captain cold blue eyes stared resolutely at the bald scientist and said calmly. "Very well Herr Doctor. Since you speak plainly. So will I.

"Yes, our own scientists strive to improve the Aryan bloodline. The Fuhrer believes it is imperative Germany possesses the true Übermensch.

"It offends us to think such an Superman could emerge in America."

Luthor frowned, and then with less emotion he went onto explain. "I have spoken with the Ultra Humanite, and he is possession of a sample of blood belonging to the flying man. Further he promised to deliver this to me."

"This will help you how?" Bauer asked.

"Reynolds introduced me to advances in biology, and with this knowledge I believe I can decipher the secrets of the flying man's natural abilities – life is in the blood is it not?"

Bauer nodded. "I am a Commodore in Kriegsmarine, my orders were to secure you and return with you back to Germany. We were assured you would happily come with us."

Luthor nodded. "I am aware of the Consortium's plans concerning me. Undoubtedly you're newly arrived by U-boat."

The German officers looked at each other. "Then Herr Doctor Luthor, where do we stand?" The SS man asked.

Luthor rubbed his hands together. "Gentleman, I am a practical man, and it is clear to me that America has rejected my work out of hand. It seems these United States prefer to laud praise on a single man, than manufacture repeatable and effective weapons of my design.

"If Germany is able to offer me unrestricted funding and materials, I will not only crack open the code of life contained in Superman's blood, but from that I will create for the Reich a repeatable formulae that will enable an army of true Aryan Übermensch."

The Nazi Captain smiled. "That is something I can promise you. In Germany your scientific genius will be generously recognised, and there will be no obstacles in your path."

"That sir, is all I desire." Luthor replied.

-'S'-

Superman accelerated across America back to the East Coast.

He was free to act once more. The two pronged attack against the Purple Plague was in the hands of skilled Medical Professionals, theirs was work of inoculation of the healthy, and treatment for the infected. Metropolis Police Department was there to protect and serve, to prevent panic.

Superman knew his duty lay in ensuring the Ultra Humanite ceased to be a threat.

It was this determination that drove him ever faster towards the city of Angels, and then into the Pacific. Taking to the water close to the coast Superman dived through the secret underwater entrance into the cave where the Ultra Humanite's submarine had been berthed. He surfaced into pitch blackness and near silence, but his super-vision pierced the gloom and he saw devastation.

The Japanese boat was scuttled, the cave walls were blackened and melted in places by intense heat. The ante-chambers were blown open, doors broken, feeder tunnels collapsed. Undeterred, but troubled by the carnage, Superman sped along the subway tunnel that led away from coastal entrance and deep into the subterranean world beneath Los Angeles. He stared ahead seeking answers as he concentrated his highly evolved senses beyond his current position deep under the Hollywood Hills.

Had Hephaestus's attempts to return from the mythological world of the Hesperides realm resulted in disaster? What would that mean for the actress Dolores De Winters. As he followed the deep underground shaft along which he seen subway vehicle disappear.

Emerging from darkness into chaos Superman superior senses analysed the scene before him. He stood in a cavern served by two passages, the one he had followed from the coast, and second vertical shaft which reached up to a modern building perched on the hillside overlooking Los Angeles.

The artificial cave was unlike the Hephaestus's Metropolis bunker, lacking the the clean industrial finish of polished concrete and steel, it was a more coarse and primitive place, yet it was hive of activity. It was a battlefield after the fact, and the rock floor was littered with the fallen.

Men lay scattered, bloody and broken, the rocky ground was scorched black. Shattered Automatons reduced to crushed stone cluttered the cavern. Among them walked metal giants, kin to the Adamantine he had fought. Sharing the single eye burning in fat squat heads, heated by supernatural internal fires their blue black metallic bodies shimmered hot; but these were of a different design, more human in appearance with life-like limbs and torsos.

But these machines were not the only giants. Larger still were two armoured mechanoids. Each stood on four fat serpentine limbs covered in a shiny metallic skin - a myriad of tiny scales; the giants glided on these tentacles like an octopus. Extending from each broad torso were two pairs of similarly designed arms. The mechanoids were clad in bronzed armour plate shaped after the fashion of a Greek Hoplite warrior, with a head resembling those soldier's bronze helm.

Superman could see that metal and flesh seemed to be joined in some unholy union that he had never imagined possible.

At the heart of the cavern burned a blue electrically charged fire; the characteristic flame he come to associate with Hephaestus. Burning and crackling white energy discharged from this car sized fire into the caves dark atmosphere.

By this flame, Superman saw the shackled form of Deedee, slumped beside other lesser giants.

These beings were over seven feet tall, their porcelain skin was myriad of tiny scales, a mane of golden hair was rather a down of long soft feathers, they were like some chimeric creation, a mix of man, bird and reptile. Large opal eyes were the only characteristic in an others wise featureless face. Nine of them stood together.

All this Superman noted in a fraction of a second. He did not hesitate.

Speed was his first advantage, his second was flight, leaping over the heads of the giant creatures Superman was beside the chained actress. The monstrous machines did not react, but his sudden appearance startled the reptilians who began to circle him cautiously, grouping close together as they did so.

The Man of Tomorrow stared into her eyes and with great relief he recognised his friend was looking back at him.

"Thank you." Deedee gasped. Terrified she clung to him.

"Hephaestus!" Superman spat. "You swore to me you would release her." He stared defiantly into the cavern, but his adversary was not to be seen. The Man of Steel's mighty hands did not linger, popping the locks on her bonds, freeing Dolores. "So much for the word of a _'god_'." He said angrily.

Around them the feathered reptilians hissed in alarm.

Then emerging from within the blue fire an insect like figure appeared, first came the long limbs encased in gilded armour, then the frame of Hephaestus the crippled god. He walked forward towards Superman upon his backward facing hand like feet.

Hephaestus carried gun like weapons attached to his battle suit, cables ran backwards into his armour. He carried a round shield.

"I am glad to see you." The Ultra Humanite said. "I confess I never thought I would be." Hephaestus threw the ancient looking shield to Superman. The Man of Tomorrow caught the artifact. He stared questioningly at the armoured alien self proclaimed god.

"Give that to the woman." Hephaestus said. "It will protect her from what is to come."

"You said you would release Dolores; instead she was chained - is this how a god keeps a promise?"

The feathered reptilians hissed and backed away further still. Beyond the strange serpentine giants turned and stared at Hephaestus.

The blue flame behind the crippled god began to flicker and fail.

"What's going on?" Superman demanded.

"In a moment the doorway opened between this world and the Hesperides realm will close. Currently the creatures you see are waiting for that to happen. When my flame dies - then my enemies will attack us."

"Really - give me one reason why we should stay here to be attacked?"

"Because they." Hephaestus pointed at the creatures. "Will not let you go. Especially with the woman. They know I have used her as my vessel."

"So you now want me to fight your war?"

"What would you have me do here Superman? Give up - let them take me _and_ the woman? Be grateful I didn't do that." Hephaestus pointed to the bloodied corpses on the cavern floor.

"I am many things Superman; whatever you might think I have protected this woman, and I intend to keep my promise to you the only way I am able.

"Quick now, the portal is closing, give the actress my shield. She will be protected, it is device of my own making."

Superman looked at the dying blue flame and then out at the beasts who were intently watching the fading light source.

He re-examined the subterranean battlefield. At first glance he had assumed the monsters were Hephaestus's servants, but these giants were clearly the victors in a fight that had broken apart the Ultra Humanite's automatons, and covered the cave floor in human blood. Among the dead were Hephaestus's crew, men from aboard the Sea Serpent, and his submarine.

The Man of Tomorrow concluded that the Crippled god was not lying to him, these monsters had killed his people.

Superman gave the shield to Deedee. The device immediately reacted to her touch, and its circular shape extended and expanded out and around her until there was a translucent glowing sphere of energy with her at his heart.

"The energy shield will protect the woman provided _we_ end this quickly." the Ultra Humanite spat.

"Agreed." Superman replied. "I like the sound of quickly."

"These two are eight limbed Gigantes, and those the are Chthonic Cyclops; these are Cronus's servants, they came through the portal to capture me, and they will not hesitate to kill both of you. Look at what they did to my people, they slaughtered every one of them.

"Remember once this flame dies, Cronus's power will be ascendant and his minions will attack again."

"What of those creatures." The Man of Tomorrow pointed to the feathered reptilian humanoids.

"This is their realm. The Anunnaki will not act against you while I stand, they will not take sides against me." Hephaestus whispered something. Superman alone could hear him. "If I fall or fail, charges will destroy this cavern."

Superman nodded that he understood the Ultra Humanite.

The Man of Tomorrow considered abandoning Hephaestus to his enemies, chancing his hand, running with Deedee away from this war, could these beasts stop him, given his speed and power of flight?

But truth and justice drove Superman to resist evil, and his principles would not let him stand aside and see Hephaestus escape his crimes against America.

Even if that meant fighting alongside his enemy; facing down these bizarre creatures ripped from mythology into reality, battling these terrifying examples of the incredible science that crippled god and his kind exploited to create these agents of death. Here Superman saw a real and present danger. Just one of these monsters alone could level Los Angeles. He could not stand by, these murderous machines had already killed with impunity.

Behind the central flame of mystical energy crackled one last time and died.

Beyond the Gigantes turned smoothly on their metallic serpentine legs, each lower limb extended in a x shape stance. Their arms hung in pairs fixed to metal discs at the shoulder, these twin assemblies could rotate a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

Behind the central flame burst in life once more, burning with reds and purples crackling with power.

Hephaestus guns hummed and clicked, he took an aggressive stance. "Cronus has taken control, the portal is his.

"Come Superman imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage; then lend the eye a terrible aspect. All hell shall stir for this."


	35. Chapter 35

Superman stood ready before the cavern of Monstrous beings. Chthonic Cyclops, their red fiery eye burning, Gigantic cybernetic creatures, and strange chimeric feathered reptilians. Now the colour of the great flame in the caves heart had changed so had the demeanour of these beings.

The crippled god let rip with his advanced weapons, projectiles spat from his left guantlet, the gun throbbed, and the Man of Tomorrow saw with his enhanced eyes how a magnetic field glowed around the gun as it fired, the electro-magnetic pulses slamming the charged metal pellets at the strange Gigantes.

Adamant metal balls zipped through the darkness and smashed into the armoured plate layer of the Gigante's metal hide, splintering and cracking it. Hephaestus targeted first one and then the other.

Responding the giant creatures glided forward while their upper limbs span like vast fails, launching sharp explosive projectiles back at the Ultra Humanite, spitting these missiles from the snake-like mouths that adorned the end of each mechanical arm. These charges were like terrible grenades.

The cave floor rocked as they exploded around about Hephaestus and Superman's position. The crippled god stood with his back to the changed magical fire as he answered the Gigantes attack with his own implements of destruction.

Superman hadn't time to reconsider; again found himself forced into an unholy alliance with the crippled god, and it fast became clear that the giants explosive onslaught was the least of his problems, to him the explosive metallic rain was like water, but at the same time the Adamantine Cyclops also unleashed their fiery gaze in their direction.

First the Man of Tomorrow made sure Dolores was safe enclosed within the magical energy field that Hephaestus's shield generated.

The fire of Cyclops and the ordinance of the Gigantes was directed at Hephaestus; not Deedee, Superman had no idea as to how long her shield would last against a direct assault by these monstrous weapons, but for now it was keeping her safe.

The Man of Tomorrow flew up above the red fire into the limited space of the cavern. Hephaestus turned his second weapon against the armoured Chthonic Cyclops, and the Crippled god answered kind with kind as hot electrical plasma spat from his right hand gun delivering fire like a throbbing pulsating flame thrower. Then crossing his hands over Hephaestus spewed fire at the Gigantes and pounded the the superheated adamant shells of the Cyclops with magnetically accelerated bullets, the hot metal deformed and in places the armour failed. Punctured by the solid metal shells the hot magical flame burst through the prick holes in the adamant like tiny geysers of hot white light.

Superman watched. Freed from the hail of charged metal spat from the Ultra Humanite's electro-magnetic weapon, the Gigantes were better able to target the deadly rain from their serpent limbs towards Hephaestus, and dangerously the explosive projectiles also fell upon the shield sphere that protected Dolores.

The Gigantes danced forward, moving as if floating on air. Superman made his move and drove down to meet the first of these monsters, his speed delivering a mighty punch to the nearest giant, knocking it's head backwards, then again he pummelled the beast, a blur of machine like repetitive hammer blows. The stunned mechanoid shuddered and tumbled back, falling it's serpentine limbs stretched out arresting it's fall, and the towering cybernetic creation brought it's tremendously powerful coiling lower extremities to bear, with unexpected speed they wrapped themselves around the Man of Steel.

Superman pushed against the crushing grip of the anaconda like metallic tentacles. The Gigante flailed at him with it limbs, smashing against both him and itself, with no regard for either.

Using his incredible ability to defy gravity, he drove this giant against its compatriot, smashing one into the other and driving both into the rock of cavern, gripping the scale like metal and with his heat vision in play, he began tearing it apart, freeing himself from the iron grip of the mechanoid's tentacles.

Superman was now confident, his 'x-ray' vision confirmed it; this was machine - it was not living thing, and he accelerated in super-time pounding the first and the second giant, dancing between their flaying limbs, cautious now to avoid their grasping reach, twisting between them, a red and blue blur.

The twin thrashing giants serpentine tentacles failed to find Superman and instead contacted the rock wall as they sought in vain to strike the Man of Steel, who at super speed fought the two monsters simultaneously.

The Gigantes increasingly panicked attacks failed to find their target, instead their tentacles smashed against the ancient rock around about them, shattering it sending hard blue green stone in to the air, and setting off a cascading cave in effect.

Superman dodged serpent-like limb and falling rocks to concentrate his blows on the biological components or the two giants, hitting at the body and the head, cracking the armoured outer carapace. He was determined to render the beasts unconscious, pummelling on the heavily armoured head.

Slowly the giant warrior cybernetic tanks began to falter, and as they did so their mechanical attacks became more predictable, and lacking in direction or finesse, so that Gigantes quickly buried themselves, stunned and broken beneath the crumbling stone of the cave wall, allowing Superman to break away from them.

Beyond this the cavern was like an oven of magical flame, as Hephaestus's engagement of the Adamantine Cyclops had compromised the metal containment of the fiery innards of these monsters. The Cyclops were vanquished, unable to fight now they staggered, their energies syphoned from them, as white hot metal armour was pierced by hundreds of holes from the crippled god's rail gun, turning the cave into a vision of hell. The rock walls shattered now under the heat, and a rain of stone fell onto the floor.

Oddly serene in the midst of the chaos were the feathered reptilian Anunnaki. The rain of fire and stone did not strike them, they like Deedee were protected by a shield of crackling energy; the nine reptilians stood huddled together - as dispassionate observers of the conflict, or so it seemed. Seeing Superman triumphant they walked towards the cowering Dolores De Winters, slowly, provocatively their shield moved with them, hot rock evaporating as fell like stony hail onto the flickering balls of protective energy.

Superman in a fraction of a second was beside Deedee.

Glaring at Hephaestus he demanded."I thought you told me these Anunnaki were your friends?"

The crippled god secure in his powered battle suit strode across, breaking rock underfoot. He faced the Anunnaki, and sang to them, at least that was best description Superman was able to formulate in English for the sounds the Ultra Humanite made.

The Anunnaki sang back in their beautiful but haunting language. Hephaestus strutted angrily before them. Walking closer to the red flame both parties seemed to engage in heated argument.

"Deedee are you all right?" Superman asked through the translucent shield, his voice directed inside.

"Yes." She mouthed bravely, the words were almost lost even to Superman's enhanced senses. He turned noting how the Anunnaki had separated into three groups of three, one stood away from the red magical flame at the heart of the cavern, a second group continued to engage with Hephaestus walking towards the magical red fire. The third approached him.

Suddenly a disembodied hand of incredible proportions, encased it appeared in a black iron gauntlet reached out the red flame and snatched hold of Hephaestus. It was terrifying sight to see the insect like Crippled god, just snatched away, moments before an invincible warrior, and now Hephaestus was simply lifted up like a doll.

The iron fist held him like a child would a doll, wrapping fingers around Hephaestus's entire body, and then as suddenly as it had appeared the hand drew the screaming Ultra Humanite into the red flame and oblivion. A cry went up from the pale reptilian humanoids, and even in there alien sing-song voice Superman was able to understand the one word they called out. Cronus.

Superman was stunned by this, then thinking that this had been all along some subtle trap, that the Anunnaki must have been far from unbiased observers, but in league with the Ultra Humanite's enemy all along. He wondered had they allowed the battle to go on as some sort of diversion, a game of sorts until the being called Cronus had been ready to act?

Superman span to meet the oncoming feathered reptilians. He was very conscious of Hephaestus's whispered warning, there were hidden charges in the cave, now with the Ultra Humanite gone, Superman was certain that at any moment the cave would violently implode.

As the Anunnaki approached their energy shield expanded suddenly. Superman found it engulfed both him and Deedee, who in turn was still encased with the magic sphere generated by the Ultra Humanite's shield to which she still clung.

The feathered reptilians snarled bearing sharp fangs and teeth, and suddenly they exhaled, filling their protective sphere with a foul green gas that emanated like venom from their mouths.

Superman could taste the bitter poison and he didn't not like its flavour one bit, like an acid in the air, even he, with his incredible constitution felt faint as the gas seemed to seep into him, even though he held his breath against it.

Superman did not know how this confrontation with the reptilians might otherwise play out, he was however certain of two things the Anunnaki's venom was lethal, and that a tremendous explosion was imminent. For Superman there was no choice but action, the hope of capturing the Ultra Humanite was gone; justice would have to wait. So he acted.

Snatching at the sphere that contained Deedee, the Man of Steel was glad to find he could take a grip the strangely resilient translucent globe.

The Anunnaki screamed out a high pitched song of protest, that was both grating and piercing, but they could stop Superman as in angry defiance of them, he leapt skywards. Superman carrried the translucent globe containing the actress upwards, twisting in the air so that he flew backwards, feet first allowing him to smash his way through the energy field. The Annunki sphere already bloated, became grossly distorted as he drove into it, the like a ballon filled with water it burst, scattering the feathered reptilians like bowling pins.

Superman hurtled upwards through the vertical shaft above him to the surface, smashing through the protective metal doors and out into the sunlight.

The Ultra Humanite's mountrain retreat was badly damaged, broken apart by the vibrations from the titanic battle beneath it.

Superman could hear the sounds and sirens that indicated this fight had shook more than the mountain and caused the city of Los Angeles to fear yet another earth quake, but he knew the shaking rock had been far from a natural event.

Then as he flew higher above the city the mountain shook once more as the explosive charges laid by the Ultra Humanite as a final desperate gambit, detonated deep below the ground sending shock waves through the surrounding land. Superman sped across Hollywood, lowering Dolores down to the ground in the yard of her home. Deedee relieved to be back in the real world, released herself by letting go of the shields grips, and the energy field dissipated in the same incredible manner as it had appeared.

Reluctantly Superman said his quick good byes, and leaving Dolores, the Man of Steel leapt to the assistance of the shocked city; averting accidents, and helping deal with the consequences of others. Tackling auto crashes, crumbling buildings, and other serious structural damage. All the natural consequences of the unnatural tremors.

However the emergency services were ready to deal with aftermath of earthquakes and professionally began the task of bringing the city back to normality. Superman was soon able to return to Hollywood to be with his friend, as he did so he found his thoughts returning to Metropolis, and the Purple Plague.

-'S'-

Over at the Golden Apple's Greco-Roman styled City Hall, Lois Lane stood beside the Doric columns that graced the grand entrance to the civic building.

She was studying a list that the Mayor's office had just issued to the Press. It was series of addresses, places like Covenant Square Gardens; large public venues where the police would work hand in hand with the medical profession to administer the vaccine against the Purple Plague.

Lois was struck by the inclusion on the list of new and as yet unopened Municipal Sports Stadium, built by Jackson Construction.

Taylor had arranged for card carrying members of the Star to receive there vaccinations earlier than most, following the emergency services and city officials in order of priority, the press was now free to move without fear of succumbing to the plague, it also helped the City's 'Plague Policy', that the news providers could tell Metropolis first hand that the receiving the vaccine was not that bad at all.

Lois looked down at her left hand a vivid purple blotch stood out, a dye stamp that indicated she had received the vaccine that Travers had developed with Superman's help.

She wondered, where was Kent? She had done her best. Lois had asked for the results of the tests run by Metropolis University's on Kent's sample of Jackson's concrete - the material Clark had collected from the Municipal Stadium construction site, before their trip to the East Coast.

However there had been problems, firstly bureaucracy told her she wasn't Clark, and secondly the Purple Plague had another systemic symptom, arguably as serious for the city, as the disease was to a person; the chaos it caused. There was the loss of personal, either to the disease, or to the Mayor's program to combat it. What this all boiled down to was this; it was highly unlikely Lois was going to get an answer back any time soon.

Understandably the only priority for Metropolis University staff was the public health crisis, even so Lois was determined to follow up the Jackson Construction story, with or without Kent's test results, and the inoculation programs use of the new Stadium was an excellent opportunity for her to cover both stories.

Meanwhile in Los Angeles Superman stood in the Hollywood bungalow of Dolores De Winters. He examined the the Ultra Humanite's shield device. It had apparently ceased to function. Superman reasoned it might be that it could only work the one time, either way it would not engage again. Superman was determined to look at this marvel more closely when he had the time, but that was not today.

The Man of Tomorrow made sure his friend had all she needed. He was amazed at her resilience, and despite his concerns for Metropolis he made time to reassure her.

"Lois did a great job on the story, she made it clear in her report that it wasn't you who kidnapped those people."

"But Superman – it was me."

"It wasn't." He replied firmly. "The Police know it wasn't. I have a friend in the FBI Dolores. I can tell you that the authorities absolutely know it was the Ultra Humanite. Besides you can't blame yourself for any of this."

Deedee nodded. She sighed. "But what took _him_, what was that?"

"I don't know." Superman admitted, he had no idea what giant had grabbed the Ultra Humanite like a doll. He didn't say what troubled him, whatever mythology aside - how accurate could that be - Cronus was clearly more powerful than Hephaestus.

Deedee poured herself a stiff drink, beside the decanter was a radio, she turned on the set. Music made her feel better.

"I should return to Metropolis." Superman said. "Will you be all right?"

"Sure, I'll be fine, I do have friends in this town, real people, good people, so don't worry, besides I understand, there are so many others who need you; and I can always call Clark."

Superman paused, torn between his responsibilities, Dolores smiled and mouthed go, he nodded and in flash of red and blue he was gone.

-'S'-

Lois and Jimmy exited their cab outside the hastily opened site of the new Metropolis Municipal Stadium.

"Jeepers Miss Lane, who'd have thought the first crowd in this place would come for shots and not to watch a game?"

Lois nodded. She could see lines of people making their way inside the new building, many were impressed by the imposing modern lines the sweeping high arches, and the expansive architecture; and they said so. Despite the serious reason for being here, the crowd seemed ready to adopt an almost party like mood.

Jimmy clicked away getting a sense of the day, the fear, excitement, the conflicting emotions in the faces of the men and women, their children, babes in arms, squealing kids, sombre adolescents; families – people, the living Metropolis.

Lois made notes, asking herself was this edifice the future? It seemed all in all to be very much a modern temple, one built of concrete and steel, Lois couldn't help wondering what Clark's sample might reveal, as she and Jimmy wandered through with the crowds.

They filed inside, along with many others, through one the various gates that led from the wide open car parks. People came by auto, subway, and bus, to form long lines and for most part gladly receive the vaccination, and the purple stamp that showed to the world you had been inoculated, that you were going to be all right. All this happened centre stage on the green of the pitch. A number of booths had been constructed for the medics, this in turn allowed for multiple lines to form across the field.

Once the purpose of the visit was done with, people could take time to look around the stadium, and many did, as the day progressed the tiered auditorium filled with people, music played over the Stadium PA system and this was interspersed by public health information. Of course vendors were there to catch the post inoculated crowd, they sold hot dogs, popcorn, candy and soda, much as they would on a game day.

Lois noted there was a deliberate attempt by the Mayors office to create a relaxed almost party-like atmosphere, to offset the more grim reality. There were even clowns to entertain the children, and particularly popular was the Presidential Box, the premier stand - which to her eyes was reminiscent of the Roman Emperor's privileged accommodation, at least as she imagined it might have been, in the glory days of the Colosseum. The vast oval of the Stadium was interrupted by this square shaped squat tower, and rather than executives of leading company's and stars of the silver screen, the box heaved with children. The Clowns did their thing, and a good time was being had.

In the Newsroom of the Daily Star Clark Kent appeared, back it would seem from the East Coast, he checked his in-tray and brought himself up to speed with the goings on in his absence. Lois had left note saying she had been unable to get the results of the tests on the sample of Jackson's concrete from Metropolis University, he also learned that both she and Jimmy had gone to the new stadium, to report on the Mayor's city wide Vaccination Program, and to cover what amounted to the informal opening of this new sporting venue.

Kent frowned. He did not need the test results to tell him that Jackson Construction methods were shoddy, even criminal. Although he had hoped independent scientific analysis would have given him the kind proof the city would need to shut down not only the company, but also close the Stadium; at least until it could be shown to be safe.

Circumstances had confounded the logical approach, and now demanded action. It was now a time for reckoning. This was a job for Superman.

Shortly afterwards the Man of Steel alighted onto a window ledge outside the offices of Jackson Construction, turning his super senses to bear on the interior of the building Superman listened to an ongoing telephone conversation. Jackson himself was speaking.

"Mr Mayor, I must insist. You must sign the release. Hell the great unwashed is even as I speak crawling all over my property, and the city is getting all the credit. My Company must receive payment in full – immediately, for our work on the Municipal Stadium project."

Superman was able to hear the response relayed via the speaker in the handset. "But Jackson I don't think that's wise."

The heavy set man, broadly built from years working in construction, laughed. "Never mind what you think. All I need to do is let it be known that you received a cut on the Globe Construction Company's shady Department Store Deal. Remember Grimes Brothers? That was a neat job.

"So Hansen - while I can tie you to Globe, me - I'm safe; Globe was a blind subsidiary of Jackson, an independent entity gone 'rogue'." Jackson laughed. "Who has the most to lose eh?"

"Damn you Jackson, I'll sign."

Moments later a red and blue blur flashes past the domed roof of City Hall and in through the window of the Mayors Office.

A aide passes documents to the City's chief politician. "Mayor Hansen this is most irregular." He notes. "Paying Jackson in full before the City officially takes ownership of the Municipal Stadium."

"Hmmmph." The Mayor coughed. "Jackson have cooperated with this office, look at how they have leant themselves to assist in the Vaccination Program - how can anyone argue we haven't taken ownership?"

Superman's appearance caught them both off guard.

"I'd advise you not to sign that release." Superman said forcefully.

"Superman!" Hansen exclaimed. "I don't know by what authority you come here! By Jove Thinking you can go around giving orders to the democratically elected Mayor of Metropolis!

"Really sir, your heroism is no mandate for dictatorship, this isn't a fascist state you know!"

"Ringing for your guards isn't the way to deal with this situation Hansen." Superman replied, observing the nervous man's hidden action.

The Mayor released the silent buzzer switch. Outside uniformed security pushed against the door to the office. Inside Superman stood a single digit pressed against it.

"Good heavens!" Hansen spluttered. "You are holding off my people with your little finger!"

Superman reached out and grabbed the incredulous official, at the same time he let the City Hall guards tumble inside, whilst taking to the air and exiting the high window with Mayor Hansen in tow.

"What are you doing? This is kidnapping!" The Mayor screamed.

"Hush now." Superman answered. "I know about your deal with Jackson, _and_ about the back hander you received from Globe Construction."

Moments later Superman bursts into Jacksons office, he does not hesitate, grabbing the burly man in his other hand.

"What is the meaning of this." The company boss splutters. "Hansen what are you doing here?"

"He dropped by to tell you how he isn't signing the release on the Stadium." Superman answered, then with both men in tow, he took to the sky.

"What manner of creature are you?" Jackson shouted. "Release me!"

"At this height, are you sure?" Superman asked, adding. "Let you fall to your death? No silly I wouldn't think of it."

Soon the three men arrived above the Municipal stadium, busy - but not at capacity, the crowds mingled below them. Superman landed atop of one the outer towers, here press boxes gave an uninterrupted view of the field below.

"Behold, Gentlemen your handiwork, unsafe, a veritable death trap! Low grade steel, poor cement, too much sand, that makes soft concrete; hey you even bought cheap timber. You both ought to be condemned along with this place."

Jackson span around. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Superman grabs a handful of concrete, from the tower itself, crushing it to powder. "Look, crumbley, you don't even need a microscope to see how poor this is. More over once this place is properly tested the whole world will know what corners were cut, and how lives were endangered."

Superman turns, his hearing detecting the deep and subsonic sounds emanating from the building itself. His eyes scan the areas where people are congregating, particularly the Presidential box, and he sees cracks, cracks that are growing.

A deep frown crosses his face. "I feared this would happen."

"What would happen?" The Mayor asked.

As he leapt into the void the Man of Steel replied directly. "This Stadium is failing, just like Grimes Brothers."

His voice boomed across the open field. "Leave the building now, return to the field. All persons must vacate the stands immediately."

Lois Lane looked up, she could make the red and blue of Superman. His cape billowed outwards in the wind stretching into the shield shape that was his emblem.

People moved, some quickly, some too quickly, panicked they left the stands. Superman's orders were repeated, sometimes even directed at individuals who lingered, or as a rebuke to others to be less selfish and to assist the old and the young. With the Man of Tomorrow's commands resonating clearly from the air, the people acted, the Stadium was being cleared.

Lois saw that the worse bottle neck in this process was the Presidential box, here the kids had congregated to watch the children's entertainers, she ran to try and help them return to the field. It was as she began to climb the stairs that the squat tower which supported the luxurious accommodation installed for the Stadiums special guests failed catastrophically.

Lois called out. "Superman! The children!" But the Man of Steel was already there supporting the squat tower, ripping the floor clean away from the supports he carried it, children and all to the flat safety of the green field beyond, clear of the crumbling edifice.

As he did so Superman was forced to make a choice. She heard him shout out "Lois! Run!" And she did, but the crumbling concrete fell faster than she could escape.

As Superman lay the floor of the stand to the ground, as he saved the children and adults from the Presidential box, he could hear Lois being crushed by Jackson's shoddy work.

The red and blue blur tore the fallen masonry aside as he searched for his friend, and there in the dusty white in the rubble lay Lois Lane, her body protectively covering a small boy.

"Lois..." He said

"I'm a bit shaken I guess, that's all." She said as she grimaced, obviously in pain. Beneath the tearful child was unharmed. Superman released him.

"Let me be the judge of how badly hurt you are. Shock means you're not able to tell what is wrong." Superman's x-ray vision had already confirmed his fears.

Quickly he checked the collapsed building for any more trapped or injured persons in the rubble, satisfied he had freed them, he returned to Lois.

Carefully he lifted the injured reporter into his arms. Then with as much speed as he dare he took the air.

"Where are you taking me?" Lois demanded. "There is a heck of a story back there, Jimmy better be getting some pictures of this."

"You don't fool me young lady." Superman said lightly. "You are hurt, I'm taking you to a Hospital."

"Wait Superman..."

"Hush Lois, you have crush injuries."

His tone and face were serious. Moments later he descended into the emergency room of Metropolis General Hospital.

"Quick this young woman is injured!" He shouted. "She has internal bleeding."

A Doctor came running, the thundering voice of Superman demanded it. The Man of Tomorrow added. "Be prepared for more casualties."

The Doctor sighed. "We're already overstretched with the Plague... what's happened?"

Superman replied as he left. "There has been a structural failure of a major section of the new Municipal Stadium, send what ambulances and crews you can."

As he returned he was reassured to see that the medical staff who were attached to the Vaccination Program at the Stadium were already helping the injured with the limited equipment they had with them. Superman scanned each casualty to determine whether they too needed to be ferried directly to hospital. So it was he delivered more people to Metropolis General, including doctors from the field to assist the overstretched medical faculty.

Finally he returned to the tower where the trapped Mayor Hansen, the Construction boss Jackson had been forced to stand and watch the chaos they were responsible for unfold.

"Is this tower safe?" Hansen demanded of him.

"Perhaps not. Do you want to wait and see." Superman replied.

"No!"

"Look Gentlemen, make a clean breast of this sorry business to the Police and things will be easier. Otherwise I'll just leave you here."

"No!" Hansen wept. "I'm ruined."

"Mr Mayor you acted decisively over the Purple Plague, if you come clean now, the City might go easy on you. It does owe you thanks for that much."

"Yes. I'll confess, I'll give up Jackson." The Mayor spat. "Just get me down from this... death trap."

Superman smiled and acted, Jackson cursed. "You rat Hansen." He swore some more, but both men found themselves at Metropolis Central in matter of moments.

There a shocked Sergeant Casey booked them in. The Mayor quickly sought to explain his part in the tragedy to the desk Sergeant, as Superman sternly stood ensuring that Hansen kept his promise, much to the horror of Jackson.

Not long afterwards Clark Kent Reporter, was seen in the halls of Metropolis General.

"How is Miss Lois Lane?" He asked the Doctor Superman had first accosted.

"Miss Lane... Yes, of course, are you her..."

Kent showed him his press card. "Oh I see." The Doctor replied. "Well she isn't out of the woods yet. We've a terrible shortage of blood, and she is rare type. You wouldn't be AB would you?"

"No I'm not." Kent replied.

"I didn't think so, less than one percent of people are."

Clark considered this. "If she doesn't get a transfusion?"

The Doctor looked at him, and bit his lip. "I'm sorry to say that she won't Mr Kent, our limited supplies are exhausted, the Purple Plague often causes internal bleeding, we're so overstretched it's untrue." He didn't have to say any thing more, the implication was clear. Lois was dying.

"She'll die without a transfusion?"

"Almost certainly." The Doctor replied. "I'm sorry Mr Kent."

Clark wondered, dare he act; dare he not act? He had no choice, come what may he had to volunteer. "I was tested as a boy." Kent said, I know I'm a universal donor."

"Really?" The Doctor said gratefully. "That's marvellous. That is are you willing to donate..."

"Of course."

"Good, come this way, I'll get a nurse to assist."

Minutes later the glass bottles and tubes were in place. Clark lay down next to the unconscious girl reporter. His x-ray vision revealed that an operation had stopped her internal bleeding, but the blood loss from her damaged spleen had been typically catastrophic.

Swiftly and with practised slight of hand Clark pierced his own skin with his fingernails and before the nurse could protest took the hypodermic needle from her and inserted himself.

"You bad man." She snapped, before reluctantly conceding. "It appears you have had training though." She added with a certain tone. "However you shouldn't do that yourself."

Clark shrugged. "I prefer too, it's a personal thing, y' know I've a thing against needles - I don't like people sticking me, but it's fine if I do it."

The Nurse shook her head, not amused by his actions or explanations, but she set up the transfusion non the less. The Doctor returned and the live donation began.

"Take as much as you need Doctor." Clark told him.

"I can't do that exactly, but at least you seem to be a big man."

Clark repeated his height and weight. The Doctor nodded saying. "I'll take as much from you as I dare, as you long as understand the risks."

"Perfectly." Clark replied. Although he didn't know anything for sure – sure his blood _tested_ as type O, but it could not be the same as type O, regardless, he was, as he had said to his Mother long ago it seemed to him, a dolphin among the fishes, he looked human but he was so very different in so many ways.

There was nothing certain in this at all. The only thing he knew for sure was that Lois Lane was dying, that there was nothing to lose in trying. He hoped and prayed that his alien blood was close enough to human, that it was good enough to save her, because deep down Clark knew his feelings for her ran deep, deeper than he liked to admit.

As Clark's blood drained from him into Lois, Gamma Reynolds arrived by plane at the farm south of Metropolis where Lex Luthor greeted him. The third Reynolds Clone exited the aircraft onto the grass of the open field that served as an impromptu strip.

"How was your flight?" Lex asked.

"Long, noisy and tiring."

"Where is my brother?"

"I'm sorry." Lex said matter of factly. "Beta passed away last night."

"How so?" Demanded Gamma.

; "He unfortunately contracted a particularly nasty strain of Plague, an alternative version he was working on; he wanted to create an adequate response to the work coming out of Metropolis University."

Gamma looked grave. Then he said coldly. "Now I am Reynolds Prime."

"It appears so." Luthor replied. The two men walked across to the barn complex that concealed the laboratories.

As they entered the secure inner building Lex asked Gamma Reynolds directly. "I was promised a sample of blood."

Reynolds passed him a tiny vial.

"Is this it?" Luthor said.

"There was a limited amount of dried material, you should be grateful for this much."

"Oh I am. I am thankful to the Superior Intelligence for his generosity in this matter."

Gamma Reynolds nodded. "I am sure you will repay him with your industry. Are the Germans here?"

"Yes, we were waiting for you, to turn this institution over to you. As you say you are now Reynolds Prime.

"Now you are here I can make my own way - I have agreed to continue my research in Germany."

Gamma nodded. "That was my understanding. Good luck Dr Luthor, give the Fuhrer our kind regards when you see him."

"That I will." Lex replied. "You can be sure of it."


	36. Chapter 36

Professor Barnett Winston concentrated on mapping the brilliant approach of the K-Metal Meteors. With each passing hour the swarm hurtled nearer the Earth.

His discovery had inevitably attracted worldwide attention; the phenomena had been dubbed the Barnett Winston Comet, and at any other time the success of one of Metropolis own, would have garnered attention, but in the aftermath of the Purple Plague, and the corruption investigation at City Hall following the resignation of Mayor Hansen, even stellar events such as this had been largely ignored.

Not, however, by all. Two groups of radically different people were enthralled, on the one hand were the Professor's peers, astronomers, men of science who were interested and perplexed by the swarm of luminescent meteors; on the other hand astrologers, mystics, persons of superstition and magic, to them the strange comet was a harbinger of doom, the Purple Plague just a forewarning of terrible things to come.

Most remarkable however were the strange changes in his own closely guarded and secret example of K-Metal material. As the the Professor prepared to assess the Meteorite once more, to catalogue these changes Winston's thoughts turned to the deceptively brilliant reporter Clark Kent. Taking his advice to heart Winston had begun to monitor the mysterious substance with greater care, he no longer handled the glowing alien meteorite, far from it the Professor now exercised great caution.

Clothed in a protective radiation suit, the heavy fabric impregnated with lead, Winston Barnett descended into the basement beneath the Metropolis Observatory.

An eerie green light seeped from the grey box, the lid of the container was ajar, and through the crack the phosphorescent rays emanating from the K-Metal illuminated the windowless room. Readying his tools the Professor peered through the leaded lenses of his Radiation Suit guiding a pair of long tongs forward to flip open the lid of the lead lined metal storage box. Snapping back on it's hinges, the Professor squinted as the bright green glow grew all the stronger.

He chuckled, the misshapen lump of K-Metal had begun to look like a bizarre sprouting alien potato. From it's irregular surface crystalline growths like green shoots erupted out of the silvery metal, the largest of these had forced open the lid of the lead lined metal storage box.

Winston Barnett eased himself closer and taking the tongs gripped this, the largest crystal, and with his free hand he tapped the base of strange growth with a rock hammer. Initially the crystal refused to move. As he struggled the Professor found himself feeling elated, he concluded that the strange alien radiation was permeating even through the lead treated cloth of his protective suit. As he felt euphoric his strength increased, and the 'Kryptonite' crystal now succumbed, snapping free taking with it a portion the silvery K-Metal itself.

Quickly he sealed the lead lined container, shutting away the brilliant phosphorescent glow of the K-Metal Meteorite therein. Now the darkened room was lit only by the radium like glow of the crystalline Kryptonite sample.

The Professor was wary how the suns energy might effect this alien material, so from the windowless basement he carried the green crystal to his darkened lab, the shades pulled shut against daylight, this experiment was to be about controlled exposure to light. Still clothed in his radiation suit, Winston placed the green Kryptonite on the counter, and swung across a microscope to study it more closely.

Outside a young post graduate assistant to Barnett Winston received a telegram on his behalf. Dispatched from London, England, the message was marked both urgent and private. This certainly seemed important enough to the young man to warrant disturbing the Professor, despite his instructions otherwise.

Knocking on the door of the sealed laboratory the younger man waited patiently for a response that did not come, beyond the Professor was absorbed in his studies, he hummed to himself, and inside the heavy radiation suit the rat-a-tat coming from the closed door on the other side of the room went unnoticed.

Outside his assistant, not unused to his bosses eccentricities made a decision, he opened the door to the darkened laboratory.

Behind the younger man, directly opposite was a window, sunlight now poured in through the doorway and into the room beyond. Light that shone onto the shard of Kryptonite, instantly the alien material reacted.

Barnett Winston staggered, the brilliance phosphorescence of the crystalline sample suddenly magnified many times, the glare was blinding him, and instinctively he reached out and pressed his gloved hand over the sample of K-Metal crystal asif trying to extinguish it's fire.

-'S'-

Clark Kent surveyed the damage to the Metropolis Observatory as he zeroed in on the familiar face of Metropolis's finest Sergeant Casey. Around about Police Cars and an Ambulance were parked haphazardly, beyond these a big hole smouldered in the side building that adjoined the distinctive dome that housed the telescope.

The heavy set cop recognised and greeted the bespectacled reporter. "Hell bells Kent, I don't know how you do it, you're like a bad penny always turning up when there is trouble, how you get here so fast I'll never know."

Clark smiled. "Any word on Professor Winston?"

"There you go again - what do you know Kent?"

Clark sneezed. Casey took a step back, ever since the Purple Plague had taken hold people had become wary of the slightest sign of sickness. The big cop was no exception. Kent said. "Only that Winston Barnett should be here."

The Cop frowned. "Coming down with something Kent?"

Clark nodded. "Just feeling a bit under the weather." He was not lying, Superman was feeling a little super than usual. Something was different, something game changing was happening to his world, something Superman could not easily explain, or counter.

He looked up into the atmosphere and beyond, where the fragments of Krypton transformed by some unknown power into something new, something different, something dangerous; the living metal of his ship, forged from the body of his home world changed into this fragmented glowing comet-like harbinger of doom.

More immediately troubling to Kent was how he felt standing here. Clark couldn't explain to Casey why he felt so nauseous near to the blast site; that he alone was apparently affected by the legacy of K-Metal, the lingering trace radiation that emanated from the wrecked lab. As they talked his head began to throb painfully.

"What about Barnett Winston?" Clark asked again.

"What about him? What do you know, what was he doing here?"

Clark shrugged. "Observing the comet I think, at least according to Metropolis University that what he was supposed to working on, and his wife told me so too."

"Well sounds like you know more than we do."

"Who's in the truck?"

"Some young guy, a lab technician. When we got here and found the poor guy passed out over there." Casey pointed away from the Lab to a some open ground.

"Hows he doing?" Clark asked for appearance sake. He knew already, Superman had reconnoitred the accident from the air, he had using his super vision powers examined the young man as he lay unconscious in the ambulance, reading his chart, checking him over for himself. Clark did not expect that the Professors assistant would be talking to anyone for a while yet.

"Well the medics reckon he'll be okay, cuts and bruises, worst of it a broken arm. Whatever caused the explosion he was at the edge of it. I reckon he was blown clear."

Clark agreed with Casey's evaluation. As he scribbled in his note pad for appearances sake Kent scanned the Observatory one more time, just to be sure, but again this search was in vain, the K-Metal was no where to be seen. Clark frowned, thinking; had it been destroyed in the explosion? Had the Professor met his death here, and if so why was there no sign of him? There were were many questions the reporter needed answers too.

His thoughts were interrupted, the grey staff car from the Daily Star garage pulled to an abrupt halt. Lois Lane emerged and closed in on her colleague determinedly. Jimmy Olsen got out and unsheathed his camera from it's case and began clicking away.

"Clark Kent! What are you doing here, you were no where to be seen when this came through on the wire? How did you get here so fast?" Lois demanded.

"Lois. Seriously should you be out and about so soon? Are you sure you are all right already?"

Lane glared at him. "Look cowboy just because you give me a pint or so of that Okie blood of yours doesn't make you my keeper.

"I feel fine, in fact I've never felt better, if I'd have stayed another day cooped up in Metropolis General I'd have gone mad. "So what's happening?" Lois grabbed his note book.

"What is this scribble ? She demanded. "That's not like any shorthand I know."

Clark looked apologetic. "It works for me."

She shook her head. "Okay Cowboy spill what you know." She moved on, towards the damaged laboratory. Clark followed saying. "An explosion,.. Casey reckons one guy was blown clear... He's going to be all right, but he's unconscious at the moment... There is no sign of anyone else..." As they walked, he explained. Adding. "Any one else like Professor Winston, who I was coming to see, err I was following up on the err meteor-comet story, you see Lois that's how I got here so fast, err I was coming here any way as it happens."

Lois looked at him suspiciously. She then missed her footing, Clark caught her, and held her upright.

She stared at him. "Thanks." She said after an awkward moment. Saying. "Thanks, I mean let go of me, I'm okay already."

"Are you sure?"

"Just a little light headed, nothing to get worked up about."

Clark frowned, her reaction troubled him. Could it be that he wasn't the only one affected by lingering K-Metal radiation?

Casey came over. "Come on you two, you know better than this, I can't let you go crawling over a bomb site – or whatever this is. I've already had to chase that cub reporter of yours, he was sticking that camera of his everywhere."

"Sorry Sergeant." Clark said quickly, gesturing to Jimmy to come on over to them.

Lois glared at the uniformed man, but she took Clark's arm as they walked away back towards her auto. She realised there was little else to be gained from pressing their luck with Casey and friends on site.

"So you think the explosion might be tied into this Professor's disappearance?" She asked.

Clark nodded.

"Could be a scoop in this Cowboy." Lois acknowledged. "You talked to his family, his friends?"

"Not face to face, he has a wife."

"Then let's drop by, see what she knows." Lois said, getting into the drivers seat. Clark climbed in beside her, his expression spoke a thousand words.

"I'm fine." Lois responded. Once Jimmy had climbed into the back she gunned the engine and in cloud of dust and churned gravel she pointed the big ford back to Metropolis.

Dropping Jimmy off at the Star, Clark quickly filed the report of the explosion with the News desk. Then meeting Lois back at the car they travelled west to Professor Winston's home address. The Astronomer off campus in the wealthy suburban district across the river from Troy State Island. The leafy area where Clark's relatives the Bennett's lived.

The door was answered by an attractive woman, only few years older than Lois.

Lane introduced herself. "My colleague and I were hoping to speak to Mrs Winston."

"I'm sorry, I having nothing to say." She replied.

Lois looked at Clark surprised. She had thought that this blonde was perhaps Winston's daughter; but seemingly she was his wife. He spoke up.

"Mrs Winston, my name is Clark Kent, perhaps Barnett mentioned me?"

"Mr Kent. Yes Barney told me he had met an interesting young reporter. You have been writing the reports of his work in the Daily Star."

"Yes. Please Maam, may we speak with you, honestly I'm more concerned about Barnett, as friend."

Lois glared at him, she didn't need to tell him, that she thought this was unprofessional. Clark didn't care, the truth was more complicated than even Lois could suspect; and she could suspect a lot of things. K-Metal was his Achilles heel, and the only other man alive who knew of it's potency was Barnett Winston. There were some things Superman preferred kept off the record.

In the parlour Kate Winston, bid them seated. She perched on a chair in front of them, legs crossed, somewhat defensively.

Clark began. "We've just come back from Observatory."

"Yes the Police were here earlier, I've already told them, that as far as I know Barney should have been there." She was clearly troubled by this.

"There is no where else he might be?" Lois asked.

"There is a whole world out there Miss Lane; but my Barney lived in a bigger world still."

"You mean his work?" Clark noted.

"Of course, he was an Astronomer, his work was the entire universe, his life's work was understanding the cosmos, honestly he was either here, or at Met U, or he was watching the heavens. There wasn't time for any other interests.

"If he's anywhere he's chasing a star.

"You spent time with him Mr Kent, he told me he felt you understood his work."

Clark nodded. She clearly thought her husband's disappearance had a mundane explanation, his eccentricity, his single mindedness.

Mrs Winston smiled bravely. "I'm sure he'll turn up bemused as to why people were making such a fuss."

"What of his expedition to Mongolia?" Clark asked, adding. "That was surely an adventure for him?"

"You think his disappearance is connected with his discovery?" Mrs Winston confirmed to Clark she knew about the K-Metal Meteorite. "It did cross my mind that he might be looking for a similar... discovery."

"Yes. I guessed you perhaps meant that when you suggested he was chasing a star, or at least a falling star – a meteorite?"

The blonde woman nodded.

Lois looked at Kent surprised, and annoyed, she did not have to explain why, her expression said it all Clark had been holding out on her, again.

"Did he discuss this _discovery_, with anyone else?" Lois asked.

"Besides myself, and Mr Kent." Mrs Winston replied, misinterpreting the girl reporters look of confusion and annoyance she felt it necessary to explain.

"Miss Lane, I maybe a mother with two young children, but I also have a doctorate in Astronomy. That is how Barney and I met, I was, I confess, a starry eyed student - enchanted by his intellect.

"But to answer your question, Barney was very guarded about his findings, he discussed his findings with me, but otherwise he chose to keep matters to himself, that's why I was surprised when my husband confided in you Mr Kent.

"As you know, my husband felt he'd been unfairly treated by his peers; and if anything he was too secretive. I am certain he did not discuss his research with anyone else."

Clark stood up. "Thank you for your time Mrs Winston." She had been truthful, her heart beat and respiration confirmed it to him. There was no need to question her further.

"Mr Kent, as Barney's friend, you will contact me if you do find him or what happened to him?"

Clark nodded, she was deeply affected by the accident and the uncertainty surrounding it, that much was obvious. "Of course I will do that."

Lois waited until they were in the car to begin. She wasn't happy. "That was the lamest interview I've ever heard; you didn't even press her at all."

Clark shook his head. "Mrs Winston clearly knows nothing about what happened up at the observatory."

"Because she said so?" Lois snapped. "What - are you some sort of lode stone of truth?

Clark frowned, he hated it when Lois was angry with him.

"Oh wait, you're more like Mr - I'm keeping secrets from Lois Lane - Kent. I think.

"So come on Cowboy spill it, what was this discovery you and Mrs Winston know about?"

Clark sighed, and began to explain about mysterious meteorite, leaving out of course the very personal dimension to the story, as Lois drove them back to Star building.

-'S'-

Gamma Reynolds stood bent over a microscope. Secure in the Consortium's hidden laboratory concealed behind the facade of a farm south of Metropolis. He spoke into the hi-fidelity tape recorder, a Magnetaphon, a new invention from Germany, coming to him through his organisation's contacts with the Third Reich.

"Although the early attempts at duplicating the cells contained in the sample of the blood belonging to the individual popularly called 'Superman', mysteriously failed, recent work, with the help of my associate Professor Dalton have been more successful, so much so that we have grown in medium cells that might contain viable genetic material for extraction.

"Quite why this has happened when previous attempts failed so conclusively is as yet unexplained, however it may well be the result of an as yet undetermined environmental factor, introduced in the intervening period, I trust further research will answer that question.

"Since I have been unable to contact the Ultra Humanite, I will for the time being not communicate this information to Doctor Luthor. I believe it will be interesting to learn whether he is on his own, is able to duplicate these results.

"However in the mean time building on this fortuitous success; building on the work of my predecessors, and upon the foundation of the Superior Intelligence's science - I hope to create transgenic animal test subjects using the 'Superman' genetic material.

"I anticipate in the next few days to begin trials working towards my long term goal of creating a genetic serum, a treatment program which in adult humans will give them the abilities of the 'Superman'."

Returning to his microscope Gamma Reynolds scribbled notes as he worked long into the night.

-'S'-

Superman dropped to earth outside his Secret Citadel, he hit the ground hard. It was as if he was a boy again, then back in Kansas, he had been limited to leaping an eighth of a mile. Now Superman knew he was gradually losing his incredible ability to defy and use the force of gravity that had developed during his time in Metropolis, and this devolution worried him, he hoped the Kryptonian Matrix; the artificial intelligence within would have found answers.

Standing before the globe the projection of his long dead biological father formed, alongside Jor-El, Lara phased into reality. Unusually the projection seemed to flicker.

"Darling, we have, as you requested, being monitoring your biological condition." She said.

"And the approach of the Meteors." Jor-El added. "I am confident that the remains of your space craft will pass by tonight as projected."

Superman nodded. "Why is it I feel, that we would on Earth have prefaced your statement with 'this is the good news'.

"What's the bad news?"

Jor-El's image flickered before continuing. "Although the sensory array on this Matrix is limited, we have determined the volume of the Kryptonium alloy mutate - this K-Metal, has increased."

"Increased? How is that possible?"

"Kryptonium can process sunlight into energy, this energy can be used to change the form and the function of any Kryptonium structure, simply Kryptonium can grow and change as instructed. K-Metal has retained the ability to convert sunlight into growth, albeit in an uncotrolled fashion."

Lara said. "Biologically this is comparable to way in which a cancer grows. The new mass appears to be unstable, it is a crystalline substance - Kryptonite. As the K-metal wreckage passes Earth, the gravitational pull of this world is working against this stronger gravity of the Sun, and as result large quantities of this more fragile crystalline material is being broken free and has falling to Earth.

"Almost all of this Kryptonite is bieng burned up as it enters the atmosphere, however as a result the level of background Kryptonite radiation is increasing rapidly."

Superman folded his arms. "That is grave news. Now I understand why I am feeling nauseous and why I have headaches, why I'm so weak - my health is being affected. In short I am being poisoned."

Lara appeared concerned. "The conclusion we are able to draw from your physiological data is that you will continue to suffer these symptons, and that you will grow weaker as the levels of Kryptonite radiation increases."

"Then what is to become of me."

Jor-El replied. "You must be strong and endure; because we are able to determine that half-life period of these new unstable isotopes is very short."

"How short is short; hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades?" Superman asked.

"That remains to be seen, unfortunately this matrix is not immune to the effects of Kryptonite radiation, and currently we are experiencing problems - as you may have noticed. Kal-El be assured these radiation levels will eventually decline, and once this happens you will recover your strength.

Superman considered this. Then a terrible thought struck him "What of Earth, what of the effects on human biology, the natural world?"

His mother replied. "With our limited resources this world, and it's people are still largely unquantified."

"Surely you must have some idea as to how Kryptonite will effect my friends and family?"

Lara's image flickered again. "The force that mutated the living metal of Krypton remains an unknown, but the effect this radioactivity has on you is something we can measure and so estimate, because your physiology is a known to us.

"My best guess is that limited exposure to Kryptonite radiation will not effect indigenous Earth lifeforms.

"But my son you must not lose heart. Although your Father and I were not able to anticipate the effects of the God-Wave event when we preprogrammed this matrix, we did however have a working model for an alternative vehicle for our science should the main space vehicle be lost. However given limitations of this matrix it will take some time to bring this to fruition."

Superman shook his head. "And in the meantime all I can do watch, and observe - hope and pray." Superman acknowledged, his brow creased in concern.

Lara responded to her son's troubled countenance. "Kal-El it is not your fault, nor is it Krypton's that this world is being troubled again by consequences of the God-Wave event. That was a war fought in another place and another time entirely.

"My son, if it were not for you what hope would Earth have?"

-'S'-

On top of mountain towering above the sea, lost behind an impenetrable mist lay an ancient island.

A paradise nestling tonight beneath the stars, eternally youthful.

Here time passes season upon season, like the hands on a well oiled mechanism, as it is above so it is below.

Above, the constellations progress across the heavens. Below, housed within a marble building of classical proportions; a Temple supported by grandiose Doric columns, spins a beautifully forged, exquisitely executed, bejewelled, and ancient mechanical computer. It's engine mirrors this progression.

Many faces are crossed by multiple hands, dials displaying day by day the rhythm of the Earth's journey through time. An instrument on which the music of spheres is played, a song sung in mathematical precision.

Faithfully for three millennia the mechanism has transposed the movement of the heavens according to heliocentric principles, above these individual faces, the classical dials, a model turns.

A movement describing in miniature this very principle. To scale the heavenly spheres, suspended on wire thin arms rotate, and among them the blue green gem bauble that represents Earth, each orbiting the vast fiery ball that was the image of the sun.

Beneath its light two women walk, dressed the flowing fashion of classical antiquity, with their woollen cloaks pulled close around them against the cool of the night.

One wears purple, and her head is adorned by a dainty royal diadem, almost needlessly for her bearing is so regal as to command respect without the trappings of power. Her face the image of classical beauty, if carved marble were brought to life it would fail to mirror her perfection.

Her companion, is no less striking, but less strident, beautiful yet enchanting, as a whisper is to conversation, as incense is smoke from fire.

Before them the sculptured paradise unfolds across rolling hills, punctuated by glorious white marble edifices, gardens nurtured by streams and tamed watercourses, silver in the light of the moon.

Above them a new star crossed the heavens, called in Man's World - the Barnett Winston Comet, this bright light had brought them here to the Amazon's Observatory perched on the heights of Themyscira, their island paradise.

Amazon eyes looked heavenward, as did countless others, for tonight across the globe the strange new comet, would be it's at its brightest.

"Menalippe, what is this – this bright light in the sky, what does it mean?" The tall dark haired woman asked pointing skyward. " Is this an augury of change, worse a harbinger of doom?"

"My Queen heaven is changing again, with this new wanderer crossing Gaia's path I sense something different. See how sparks fly from it?

"I can sense the air around us is changing; this is something unseen on earth since the dawn of the gods." Menalippe knelt and gently stirred the surface of the mercurial mirror like pool at their feet, within the silvery water reflected the image of the heavens above as if the stars themselves where captured in glass.

The Amazonian Oracle Menalippe studied the pool, it's coloured lights were like a music, but with flavour and texture to her senses.

"It is like the old magic." Menalippe said.

The Amazon Queen searched the image watching the dots of lights above them mirrored in this mercurial pool. Bright shooting stars criss-cross the night sky.

"These," Menalippe pointed to the meteorite shower, "are raining unusual energies in the air.

"This comet is a stranger, a newcomer to our plane of existence, it comes unannounced; truly Majesty it has been nigh two thousand years since such a sign."

The Queen of the Amazons nodded. "And then the world changed forever.

So Oracle, what change does this new herald announce – and what does this mean for Themyscira?"

Menalippe peered deeply into the scrying pool before her. "Your thoughts are with Diana." Menalippe observed.

The Queen laughed. "You know me too well Oracle."

The ruler of the Amazons gazed at the brilliant moon reflected in the mystic pool. "As the goddess of night crosses our path, how can I not wonder of the woman I have made; our Diana?"

Menalippe extended her hands reverently. She closed her eyes and spoke as in a dream.

"The goddesses Athena, Artemis, Demeter, Hestia, Aphrodite. Our patrons, each blesses us, lending their strengths to every Amazon.

We are every one a reincarnated soul, once unjustly slain by man, each called to live again as Amazons.

"Our eternal Sisterhood was given Themyscira, our sorority was charged with guarding Dooms Door, the gate of Tartarus. So we lived unchanged for centuries.

"All of us have live countless lifetimes except one, your daughter.

"She alone died as a child yet unborn within you and was born again a child, born into a new age; born to Themyscira."

Menalippe opened her eyes once more. "I am sorry Majesty, the future around the Princess is too indistinct, I can tell you nothing you do not already know."

The Queen sighed heavily.

She stared into the silver surface of the pool before her. "Our goddesses gave me this name – Hippolyta."

She turned to gaze at Menalippe. "My name means stampeding horse, because I was first Amazon to break the surface of water from where we were reborn."

"Yes Majesty. As the first of our race justly our goddesses called you to be our Sovereign." Menalippe replied.

"With the passing centuries I have come to understand that there is always a price that the gods exact from us in exchange for their favours.

"I knew this, when the gods finally answered my dearest wish.

"In giving me a child; the gift of Diana, I knew that the gods had some greater plan in mind." Hippolyta said.

Then smiling as she remembered her baby daughter saying. "Remember Menalippe how the flashing thunder of mankind's guns fell silent on the day Diana first cried out alive and vital - the first child of Themyscira?"

"Yes Majesty. In this mirror, I saw that generation dug deep into muddy fields. Man's World's Great War – the so called war to end all wars; a hollow promise indeed.

"Here I watched men fall to flashing thunders hail, for four long years. Then on the day Diana came to Themyscira the guns fell silent."

The Queen stared into the Oracle's Scrying Pool. "Menalippe there is something that troubles me, and it has done for two decades."

"Truly Majesty?" Menalippe replied concerned. "What is it?"

"When you looked into the future just now, you told me more than you realised. You said Diana was born into a new age." Hippolyta observed. Then she said.

"Answer me this.

"Why as countless men lay dead in the mud of Gaul, after so many centuries of wanting and waiting to become a mother, why did the gods chose this century to answer my prayers?

"Menalippe was it just coincidence?"

The Oracle considered this for a moment.

"My Queen, each of us died violent deaths at the hands of men, but uniquely Diana died while still in your womb.

"And uniquely long after our reincarnation Diana slept on within the cavern of souls.

"So yes - I see this truth; I see all those mothers shedding tears for lost sons, women weeping for husbands, fathers, and brothers, perhaps such unparalleled loss moved your heart, touching the gods themselves."

"I cannot but wonder Menalippe." Hippolyta reflected, saying.

"I wonder about Diana and the agenda of gods. Yes our goddesses blessed Diana, as they did us, but again with Diana there was something different, alongside our goddesses of Olympus, stood another."

Menalippe nodded. "Lord Hermes."

"Yes - and _he_ gave to her a gift uniquely his to give, a gift I fear that is destined to take Diana above and beyond us.

"And I can't help wondering tonight, seeing this comet lighting the skies, what the price of such a gift will be?"

"Menalippe you - yourself stood before us, and foretold that the cycle of violence has come again to Man's World, a scant generation later, the sound of flashing thunder grows louder.

"And as again men battle each other, and how many more innocents will die this time around?

"How long can Themyscira continue to enjoy peace - when the god of War grows stronger with every generation of men.

"And all the while our patron goddesses remain silent? How long has it been Oracle since they have spoken to us?"

"Too long Majesty, and I too fear for this paradise Island – for our peaceful existence." Menalippe confessed.

"Majesty. The future is becoming opaque to me, confused, I see only the fires of the sun, and I know not what this means."

"Diana _was_ born into a new age Menalippe, an age of world wide war." Hippolyta sighed.

Looking at the night sky the Queen said. "Now this omen, this comet, tears across the heavens and poisons the air with magics unseen since the dawn of the gods – Please tell me I am misinterpreting the signs Menalippe."

The Oracle could not deny Hippolyta's logic, but she still spoke with hope. "Even the gods can not be certain about tomorrow." She said, taking hold of the Queens hand. "Majesty whatever Hermes gift means for Diana, whatever the gods themselves plan for us, nothing is sure except humanity's freedom to choose, each one their own path."

-'S'-

On top of the Daily Star building Jimmy sat drinking hot coffee, he adjusted his camera, it was ready on it's tripod to collect a series of shots of coming meteor shower. The cold winter air blew around the base of the papers iconic logo, and feeling the bite of the chill wind the young photographer proffered his cup.

"Please Miss Lane may I have a refill."

"Of course Jimmy." Lois replied pouring the steaming liquid from the flask. They were not alone the roof was a popular place to be, as many members of the Daily Star Staff joined them to watch the once in lifetime event.

"Any chance of some more coffee here?" Clark asked. "Please if you could be so kind."

"All gone Cowboy." Lois replied coolly, topping up her own cup, she pulled the blanket around her and sat down in the folding chair. Then bringing a pair of binoculars to her eyes, she like countless others across the world watched the passage of Barnett Winston Comet.

Clark thought about why Lois was still angry with him. She made no secret of the fact she felt he should have confided in her; that she was always having to drag information from him, it was if, she reflected, he was strictly part time.

"Don't you know Clark your job is to report the news not decide what is the news." Lois said. "That's why we're sitting here on top of this building getting cold watching a light show."

"Jeepers Miss Lane, Mr Kent, will you look at that it's like the fourth of July and then some." Jimmy exclaimed his camera clicked away as the sky lit up, shooting stars rained down like fireworks.

It was oddly beautiful Clark acknowledged, yet this was deceptive, each flash of light was an unstable fragment of the cancerous growth from the surface of living K-Metal breaking up under the heat and pressure of entry in Earth's atmosphere. From each explosion rained radioactive dust, releasing strange energies. Forces that drained him of his strength and of his vitality. Forces that also affected ordinary men, but only differently.

"You know I think I'm going to get some more coffee." Clark said. Hearing in the night sounds that his friends were oblivious too.

Lois laughed at him. "Really, I mean... you leaving now? Come on Clark look at this – have you seen anything like this.. sky thing, and all you can think about is doughnuts?" Lois replied.

"I didn't say anything about doughnuts."

"You don't have to Cowboy, I know you by now. With Coffee comes doughnuts. It's the Kent way."

Clark making his excuses left the roof, the door to the stairs shut noisily, but that was ruse, in the shadows, still faster than the eye could see, Clark Kent leapt clear off the building and in the air, moments later Superman swooped in the direction of the sirens that he had heard wailing in the night.

Moments later he fell to ground, using his cape as a brake he slid to halt. His powers were weakening, but that was no reason to give up, his was a never ending battle.

Police cars blocked the street ahead a car weaved wildly, accelerating hard towards the impromptu road block, behind it more black and whites in pursuit, their sirens and lights engaged.

Suddenly almost too late, the driver sees the road ahead is impassable, yanking the steering wheel hard, more by luck than skill, he wrenches the speeding auto around rising onto two wheels, rubber screaming under stress and then away down a quieter side street.

Superman's vision follows the car. He sees a pedestrian crossing the street, she is caught in his single working headlight, frozen in fear the young women stalls, her frightened stare fixed on the blinding glare. Sighting the girls peril Superman acts. Leaping the Man of Tomorrow lands between her and speeding car. Upon striking the ground he is amazed to find his feet buckling slightly beneath him, Superman dashes towards the girl, conscious of how he is forced to strain himself to the utmost as if invisible chains seem to be pulling at his limbs, his tremendous strength is ebbing, but Superman cannot let himself fail her. It seems an eternity before he reaches the young woman and at the last moment his hands pluck her clear of the cars path.

Detroit iron meets steely resolve, as the auto hits Superman head-on, he feels the impact like a hammer blow as with terrific force the cars radiator crumples. Back flies the Man of Steel, unable to counter the blow, he twists and turns a complete somersault, the Kryptonite fallout in the air might rob him of his preternatural strength, but Kryptonite cannot take away from him the aerial skills he learned as a boy.

The car looms before him, but caped man might be down, but Superman is not out of the fight, he never gives up, despite the roaring in his ear drums, the throbbing agony in his head, he fights on, shrugging aside the pain and drives his shoulder deep into the grill of the auto, thinking I must stop this car! Forward he strains, heaving, pushing, beads of cold sweat form on his brow as he expends his energy, and his body trembles as though with fever.

He slides, his feet scraping the surface of the pavement, while the metal deforms under his hands, but weakened Superman struggles on until the auto is stopped. Inside the broken vehicle the drunken man at its wheel is both shaken and shocked. Angrily he fumbles beneath the seat, until his hand grips heavy forged steel. Out from the car he comes, berserk with fear and rage, fuelled by alcohol. "I'll fix ya!" he roars.

"Lower that wrench!" Superman commands.

The raging drunk charges him, and determinedly Superman faces him down, the heavy tool smashes against the Man of Tomorrow's skull. Superman stands defiant; years of invulnerability give him confidence, even making him complacent in the face of danger; but tonight he feels a sudden and unexpected blinding sensation as the wrench rebounds from his forehead, in this moment Superman knows the meaning of pain, and yet, he rolls with the blow. Gritting his teeth, he shrugs off the violent attack, neither crying out, or wavering.

Suddenly a feeling of terrible rage surges through the Man of Tomorrow, angered by the cowardly attack Superman finds untapped reserves of energy that surge through him. Snatching up the broken auto the Man of Steel holds it above his head threateningly. "I ought to show how it feels like to have a couple of tons of iron hit you." He growls at the drunk. The terrified man drops his makeshift weapon and collapses in a dead faint.

"Superman stop!" The voice of the authority came from an uniformed officer of Metropolis PD. "Put the car down, please don't go there, not on that idiot's account. Come on Superman."

"Sorry Officer." Superman replied coming to his senses, he shook as he lowered the auto, he felt his strength deserting him, down slowly inevitably moves the car, as the Man of Tomorrow's store of energy dwindles rapidly, robbed by the poisoned atmosphere of his adopted world.

Superman stood clear of the downed auto. "I was just giving the guy a scare, he almost killed someone." He explained to the Police officer, thinking to himself, truth be told I could not do anything else put the car down, I could not have held it up any longer. He wondered if the cop could see him shaking.

"I know Superman, I saw your save her, I should by rights bring you in, but we both know that isn't going to happen. Thanks for the assist, at least everyone is all right, and it's only this idiot's car that is wrecked."

Superman nodded wearily. "Thank you Officer, and good night." He leapt into the air, as a boy he could leap an eighth of a mile, as man this night, the best he could manage was to rise up and over the street, just clearing the edge of a house roof opposite, to land in the dark alley beyond. He hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the fall, he stumbled to his feet. Superman ducked into the shadows, and Clark Kent emerged, and feeling worse by the minute, the exhausted reporter hurried back to his apartment, seeking solitude and sweet sleep.

-'S'-

On top of the conning tower of the German U-boat Lex Luthor observed the meteor showers incredible light show. He wore a woollen hat pulled tight over his head against the chill ocean wind. Using binoculars he too gazed at the luminescent meteors. Now comet-like they streaked across the sky, trailing a tail of of sparkling light, which in turn was drawn into the planets atmosphere. Lex watched enthralled as these shooting stars fell like a rain of hot sparks against the velvet night.

Beside him stood Commodore Wolfgang Bauer, the boat's commander, and the SS Captain, Hauptsturmführer Wilhelm Leichlingen, who said.

"This is an incredible sight Herr Doctor."

"Indeed. I would dearly love to examine one of these meteors, there is something most peculiar about this stellar phenomena, one I believe demands investigation."

"Doctor Luthor, is there no end to your interests, you are as they say a renaissance man, no?" Bauer noted.

Lex laughed. "Knowledge – the pursuit of it, science, the power of understanding, the thrill of discovery, these things bring meaning to life, so yes I cannot concentrate solely on one discipline, I must embrace them all, master all, that is my calling."

"Is that a request Herr Doctor." The SS Captain asked.

"A request?" Luthor replied uncertainly.

"Yes. Do you wish us to obtain for you a meteor rock, for you to inspect."

"Ah." Luthor laughed. "Yes that would be splendid, assuming such a meteor makes earth-fall, assuming you can find it, then yes by all means I would welcome that."

"You see my friend we mean what we say, when we say to you - Germany values scientific endeavour highly, you can rely on the Third Reich to honour its promises."

"As do I my friend, as do I." Luthor stated.

Liechlingen chuckled slapping Lex on the back. "Then truly a prodigal son returns to the Fatherland."

-'S'-

Clark awoke in bed, Lois lent over him she was dabbing his brow with a damp cloth.

"uh, what?" He mumbled, fumbling for his glasses, quickly his hand fell to them on the bedside cabinet. Hastily he pulled on the spectacles and sitting up he self consciously looked at the clock, it was well past noon.

"Gosh, oh my, I've slept in, I'm so late for work!" He gasped.

"Slept in?" Lois laughed. "Hate to tell you this Clark, but you've more than slept in - you're more like three days overdue at the office."

"Three days." Kent said bewilderedly.

"Here drink some water." Lois held a glass to his lips, Clark took it. He was very thirsty.

"Yes, seventy two hours and then some.

"Last thing you said to me, was, something like, 'Lois going for doughnuts, be right back', and then nothing, I had to write up your science column for you, the Chief wasn't to happy, but it wasn't like a day without you was a big deal, y' know we all thought you'd maybe got a lead on some scoop.

"Then the following day, when you were a no show yet again, Taylor sent Olsen around here, after work to see if he could find you, but there was no answer when Jimmy tried your door. So this morning I came around and tried again, when I got no response, I let myself in."

"How?" Clark asked.

"Well Cowboy this girl reporter has picked up some skills in her travels, including how to pick a lock.

"Any way you were here, passed out, running some sort of fever, so I got a Doctor to come out and check you over."

"Oh my!"

"Well he said it was probably some sort influenza and he gave you a vitamin shot or something like that."

Clark look stunned. "He gave me a injection?"

"Sure, what's so surprising about that? Well to be fair it was the worst example of an injection I've seen, not that you minded because you were out, the Doc just complained that you had the hide of elephant, but he sure stuck you good."

Clark appeared to be stunned. Then there was clatter and a bang as the front door to his apartment swung open. Through the wide open double doors that led from the small bedroom through to the marginally larger living room, Clark saw Jimmy Olsen walk through carrying grocery bags.

"For someone who eats as much as you do, you sure have empty cupboards Cowboy." Lois explained. "So I sent Jimmy out for some provisions.

"Did you get the soup Jimmy?" Lois asked the cub reporter.

"Sure thing Miss Lane, I found the Deli just like you said, they gave me a quart to take out."

"Chicken soup, the best in the city, that'll put you right, lots of liquid and protein, just what you need." Lois told her patient. Adding. "Besides Cowboy, candy, cake and cookies don't count as major food groups, I couldn't believe that was all there was in your kitchen."

"I'm out a lot." Clark replied defensively. While Lois was distracted he looked at his arm, there was yellow purple bruise where the doctor had punctured his skin.

"I don't remember any of it, I don't even remember getting into bed." He sighed heavily.

"hmm." Lois raised her eyebrows and laughed, not fully appreciating the full extent of Clark's confusion. "Well you must have done, because you were laying in damp sheets when I found you, you must have been perspiring something terrible, at least I managed to find some pyjamas in your wardrobe."

Clark glanced at his bedclothes. "You dressed me! How?"

Lois laughed at him. "Well Jimmy helped; but Clark you were buck naked at that point."

Clark stunned face made Lois laugh again.

"You silly, don't look so shocked. It's not like I haven't seen a guy in his birthday suit before – remember I grew up on an army base. It's not like you've got anything I haven't seen before."

"Lois!" Clark remonstrated.

"That's not what you said Miss Lane!" Jimmy shouted mischievously from the galley area of the main room, which served as kitchen.

It was Lois's turn to blush. "All I said is that you must have sweated a lot of weight off while you were sick, and that maybe they worked you hard as a boy on the farm, because, well it was just a real surprise to see that that you're quite the beefcake under that ill fitting suit of yours." She said hastily; quickly adding.

"And that's another thing Mr Kent, I should say ill fitting _suits_ - what is it with you, you've all those identical blue suits hanging in your wardrobe, not one of which, I might add, clearly fits you properly, or at least they won't any more."

"They were cheap, a job lot?" Clark suggested.

"I can see why." Lois stated. "How's the soup coming along Jimmy?"

"Just finding a pan Miss Lane."

"Wait there I'll do it."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Clark asked.

Lois looked back and stuck her tongue out at him. "Have you ever even used this stove Clark, it's as clean as a whistle." She emptied a portion of the chicken soup into a pan and began re-heating thick liquid. It's warm aroma soon reminded Clark how hungry he really was.

Jimmy wandered over. "Sure glad to see you awake Mr Kent, when we got in this morning, well seeing you there all pale and drawn – it was scary, I mean for a minute I thought you'd died..." He lent closer and added quietly. " You sure had Miss Lane worried; she was really upset, she cried and everything.

"But don't tell I told you that Okay?"

Clark nodded seriously. Sitting up, he cleared his throat. He felt more himself, tired perhaps, a bit achy, but at least he reflected the worst of the headache and nausea had passed.

"So Jimmy," he asked, "tell me what's being going on while I've been out of it?"

"Oh jeepers Mr Kent. I don't know how to tell you this."

"What Jimmy? What on earth has happened?"

"Superman has gone bad."

"What?" Clark spat.

"I don't believe it!" Lois called out. She banged the saucepan as she stirred, maddened by the accusation.

"Well Miss Lane doesn't believe it." Jimmy conceded. "But dozens of people saw him."

"Crimes Jimmy – what happened?"

"Oh, okay - it was early yesterday in the morning, over at Metropolis Central Station. Well it was still dark when this cloaked figure crashed into the Mail train, tore it up really badly.

"It happened as the train pulled into the marshalling yard.

"People say they saw Superman tearing into the mail carriages, breaking them apart like cardboard. They say it was like he was looking for something, a package they said, and then stealing what he came for he then leapt into the air and disappeared; but the train it was totally wrecked."

"Superman, the say it was Superman, they saw him?"

"Well it was dark, but the man had a cape. Every one agrees on that. The guardsman said it was like a dark red maybe even a purple colour, and his suit was like a really dark blue, but as I said the sun wasn't up. Y' know Mr Kent - I hate to say it, but who else could that be?"

"I don't know Jimmy." Clark responded. He didn't even know where his costume was. He must have taken it off, he hoped he'd hidden it properly.

"Darn it Mr Kent. I just hoped you might know something, you seem to know more about Superman than anyone I know, I just thought maybe you might have an idea what happened."

"I'm sorry Jimmy, I mean I'm just getting my head around the fact I've been out of it for three days, I wish I could tell you about Superman. Believe me I really wish I knew.

"I mean unless... I was out there walking around in my sleep,.. I mean there is no way Superman and I could be in the same place at the same time,.. I mean I was here wasn't I?" Clark sighed. "I'm sorry I can't give you an explanation for what happened to the train – certainly I can't give Superman an alibi."

"Sorry Mr Kent, I understand, it's just – well like Miss Lane says, I can't believe it. I mean Superman going bad, why would that happen?"

"Now Jimmy, leave Clark alone." Lois chased the young man away from the bed. "I'm sure Superman is more than able to clear his name all by himself, he can certainly do that without the help of this poorly sick Cowboy.

"Here you are." Lois said giving Clark a large mug of hot chicken broth. She perched on the edge of the bed, adding with a smile. "It's the best remedy for whatever ails you that I know in this fair city."

"Thanks Lois. I really appreciate this - and all that you've done for me; and Jimmy too."

"That's ok Pard'ner. I mean you gave me your Okie blood, least I can do is warm you some soup when your poorly; and once you are feeling better we can go shopping."

"Shopping?" Clark asked confused once more.

"A friend does not let a friend walk around looking like his clothes have been borrowed from somebody's scarecrow. Besides now you've lost some of that chubby fat you really, really, really do need a new suit."

Clark attempted to mouth a word of protest.

"No Mr Kent. No arguments, do what I say - drink your soup and get better, I going to make a Metropolis man of you yet."


	37. Chapter 37

Lex Luthor relaxed in the officers quarters of the Hitler Class U boat.

The submarine sailed under the command of Commodore Bauer. Who had told him proudly of that this was the Kriegsmarine's ultimate U-boat. Named the Black Knight, she was four times the size of the ubiquitous Type VII whose wolf packs hunted the north Atlantic. Where the crews of these lesser submarines suffered cramped and unsanitary conditions, lacking privacy, even the opportunity wash, and shave, or launder their clothes; the Black Knight, had in contrast all these facilities; she even had a freezer compartment to preserve fresh food.

Daylight hours meant the submarine switched to battery power and ran submerged, to stealthily glide under the sea hidden from sight, during the night the vessel surfaced, allowing the eight twelve cylinder diesel engines in two separate engine rooms to power the boat along charging the batteries as she sailed. Bauer unsurprisingly was extremely proud of his boat, the largest Submarine of it's day. He joined the SS Captain Leichlingen and Luthor in his small but well appointed officers lounge.

Lex greeted him. "I am surprised at how comfortable the accommodation is, I had expected something far less civilised."

Bauer smiled, saying. "On another boat that would be true, but the Black Knight is in a class of her own, I have a crew of one hundred and ten, and yet I can still carry an additional compliment of Special Coastal Troops, and up to six hundred tonnes of cargo above and beyond basic provisions, so my friend one more man hardly makes life awkward for us."

"How many of these amazing submarines are there?" Lex purred massaging the ego of his hosts.

The Commodore looked to the SS Captain. Leichlingen answered Luthor. "Four, but with the outbreak of War the program has been temporarily suspended, at present the Black Knight is the only vessel as in service, and as you know, is currently assigned to special projects."

"This war with Britain is unfortunate. Do you think they will continue to fight?" Luthor asked.

"We think not, our contacts in England are optimistic, there is much reluctance among the ruling class for war, many rightly admire the Fuhrer's leadership. Channels are open, there will be negotiation, and the Fuhrer has no desire to break the Anglo-Saxon British Empire. I think they will sue for peace."

"And if not?"

"Then they will crushed, they are ill prepared with old fashioned ideas, and technology, the Wehrmacht on the land, in the air, and in the sea will defeat them.

"This U-Boat is but a taste of what is to come, in due course this program of which you are a part will deliver Wunderwaffen; 'wonder weapons' that will obliterate any resistance.

"Science my dear Doctor will guarantee us victory. There is no higher ideal in the Aryan tradition."

"Indeed it does feel like I am coming home."

"Luthor is a good German name." The SS Captain laughed, pouring Lex a drink. "Schnapps my friend." He tossed back the drink.

"We have come a long way under the Fuhrer, since suffering humiliation at the hands of the Jewish-Communist untermensch plotters of Versailles, The Third Reich is strong, the German worker is strong, we are united, disciplined and self-sacrificing. The party manages the economy, this is the Third Way. National Socialism."

"The rise of Germany, has been impressive."

"The Aryan peoples can achieve much, when properly managed, when united. It was the untermensch who sought to divide us. Now the common people have a champion in our Fuhrer, they will be ruled by the wise, the intelligent."

"The common people rarely value intelligence, their heroes are sportsman or actors, men in funny costumes." Luthor observed.

The SS Captain laughed. Then said seriously. "Herr Doctor the masses are not equipped intellectually, neither are they educated sufficiently to decide for themselves details of politics.

"For this reason we must strive to better the race, to breed better, stronger, cleverer men, and if the people need more room to live and grow then Europe must make room for the greater German nation, either peacefully or it must be taken by force, either way, ours is the right, and their labour is ours for the taking, it is the heritage of our race to unite all the Germanic tribes into one nation, which is the greatest expression of the Aryan identity."

"That is why I come home, I seek the same answers. Like Prometheus I will steal fire from the gods, and I will bring the power of technology to my people."

"I will drink to that my friend." Wilhelm filled their glasses again with schnapps, he held up his saying. "To our victory - the Ubermensch; the soon to come German Over-man!"

-'S'-

Washington D.C, the brick red castle of the Smithsonian Institute; dusk falls late in the cold afternoon in December. Within it walls a research fellow deals with the latest acquisitions to Department of Planetary Studies.

"Okay Bob. Here you go, latest one for you."

"Thanks James." the young man replied, turning to staff assistant he saw the older clerk using a stack cart to move a relatively small wooden box.

"Here let me give you a hand, its a dead weight." James told him. Both me took hold of a sturdy rope handle on either side of the packing case.

Lifting this onto the work bench Bob grunted. "You sure weren't kidding."

"Here's the manifest." James passed a clip board across.

"Right. Great this must be the meteor they've been promising us."

"Where's it from?"

"Out west, Arizona I think." Bob ticked of the paperwork. "Yes there it is Arizona... Oh, sorry James, you really meant where it's 'from'. Okay.. well they reckon it's maybe a piece of the Barnett Winston Comet."

The older man seemed impressed, he had worked here in a long time, man and boy he would say. "Heck, that was some show, bet you guys are excited about this one."

Bob laughed. "Yes James you could say that; and on that note I best check this is what it's supposed to be."

Taking a screw driver Bob released the lid, and sure enough, in packing straw sat a small but heavy metal rich meteor.

"Darn if that thing isn't glowing."

"Looks that way. Just kill the lights for a second would you please James." Bob asked.

The room went dark.

"That looks like suped up version of the radium dial of my watch." James commented as the green glow seeped into the room.

"How fascinating." Bob mused, his face under lit by the luminescent meteor.

The high windows whose Gothic style typified the Smithsonian building were dark, but in that moment the one above the two men exploded, and glass rained inward. Crashing to the ground the purple caped figure was a blur a dark blue.

He snatched the meteor from the table with one hand, and sweeping Bob aside as if he was doll with the other.

The young man flew backwards smacking hard against the wall, where he crumpled to the floor. The dark Cape whirled over the head of James as the figure swept upwards flying out of the broken window into the night sky, and as quickly as he had arrived the dark angel was gone.

-'S'-

Clark Kent lay alone in his sparse apartment dreaming; he was trapped beneath a broken steaming car, and he could not lift it. Instead he was crawling free, struggling to walk the streets of Metropolis. He was wearing his costume, and yet it felt wrong, as if it was made of lead, making each step a huge effort, and he saw himself, stumbling stiffly like Frankenstein's monster. Around about him people ran away screaming as if he were such a thing, crying out 'run it's Superman'. Women screamed, he staggered weaker than any of them, seeking to hide, to crawl into the shadows, only to feel caged, like a frightened animal, trapped and powerless.

Waking from his nightmare; troubled, he lay staring into space, limited finite space. He was alone. No longer did he hear the cacophony of the living city, the individual heartbeats of its people, instead he only heard one, his own.

He thought about his current condition, how for years he'd fought for the principles of justice and truth, he'd become Superboy - the mythological angel of the Midwest, and then in his youth encountering a great secret, returning from his mysterious exodus; he then had at eighteen come to Metropolis, adopted an older man's persona, pretended cowardice, while hiding his true strengths. He had fought a war against injustice, against crooked racketeers, determinedly smashing their evil activities. From the Dust Bowl to the City, he remembered facing natural disasters, aiding widows and orphans; and unseating crooked politicians. He thought to himself; many times I have blessed the providence that had presented me with super-strength, for it enabled me to save the lives, and now the powers that enabled me to do all these things is gone, is this the end of Superman?

Clark thought, should I wait for my powers to return, assume a quiet existence as mere Clark Kent; but as a reporter, with Lois Lane as a partner, how quiet would that life be? He lay thinking; super-strength or no super-strength, I'm going to continue my battle against the forces of injustice come what may. I am a mortal man today, and as a mortal man I must do what can.

Rising from his bed Clark fumbled for the light switch, reflecting that he felt numb, like he trapped in strange invisible bubble and he felt strangely alone. For him it was very odd that this room, his immediate world, was now _all_ of his world, no longer did he need to concentrate on his near surroundings; no longer was there a competing background sensations constantly accompanying him. Laughing at his own limitations, he thought, this is almost a holiday from thinking.

Almost a week had passed since he had succumbed to the strange radiation from the meteor shower torn from the passing Barnett Winston Comet – the last remnant of Krypton's incredible living metal. Now he was determined to return to work.

The clock told him it was a little after six in the morning. He found his glasses, and then cast aside the heavy lenses which had never been a problem before, but he could not hope to focus through the glass bottle bottom lenses without his vision powers. Opening a drawer took out another different pair with plain glass lenses, circumstances were now very different, so these stage-prop type had to be used.

Getting dressed Clark adjusted the waist band of his pants, they were still oversized, but that did not matter as he wore them lower around his hips so they were long enough in the leg, adjusting his suspenders accordingly. He could not hope to hold the exaggerated stance he had so far used for Clark, he didn't have the endurance for that super advanced muscle control, but he could slouch lazily, and the loose fitting jacket still did it's part.

So it was the revised Clark Kent who breezed into the Newsroom of the Daily Star, the changes he had been forced to make to his Metropolis persona went largely unnoticed, though Taylor's secretary Mary told him he looked better for losing weight. He sat at his desk and began to catch up on everything he had missed.

Jimmy's pictures of the Comet and the accompanying meteor shower were great, but the headline that preceded them was troubling. 'Comet Madness Grips City'. Clark scanned the pages, taking in multiple editions, his mental acuity was the least effected of his abilities, but still it took him longer than usual to process the news print.

Tellingly crime had increased in the hours following the Comet's Zenith. Kent read through the daily editions of the paper he had missed during his lost days, and was forced to conclude that indeed a bizarre version of 'full moon madness' had taken over Metropolis. Was this he wondered caused by the same radiation that robbed him of his abilities?

When it came to his lunch hour he found Lois had already decided how he was going to spend it. Lois made good on her earlier threat and Clark found himself shopping, and with her help, the girl reporter applied a critical eye to the process.

"For goodness sake Clark, stand up straight put your shoulders back." She complained as he tried on a suit coat for size.

"Lois you sound like a drill sergeant."

"And that's surprising how? My godfather _is_ a drill sergeant. Seriously Cowboy how do you expect clothes to fit you properly when your posture is so bad?"

Reluctantly Clark relaxed into his natural stance.

"Now that's... better." Lois acknowledged, her violet eyes twinkled. "Yes this one will do for starters."

Things didn't improve much when they did stop to eat. Clark tried to order a hamburger cheese sandwich with extra cheese, but before the waitress put pen to pad, Lois interrupted. Making it clear to him that he wasn't in Kansas any more.

"Seriously back on the farm when you spent the day lifting... I don't know - cows around. I expect you needed to eat all those sugars and fat's but you are desk jockey now kiddo, not a farmer, so if want to stay trim, and you do, because those new duds you are modelling won't fit if you pile on the pounds again; well you need to eat better."

Clark sighed. He closed the menu. "Okay, what should I have?"

Lois seeing his frown countered. "Surely something good might as well come from you're being sick – shouldn't it?

"Listen to a friend, it's better for you if you eat sensibly."

"Lois it's not that I don't appreciate your err help, it's just I'm pretty much used to, y' know doing my own thing."

"Sure. And that was better just how? Come on Clark you know I'm right."

Kent let her order. He then stoically drank black coffee and ate a lean beef sandwich. It wasn't what he was used too, but then he reflected Lois might have a point, he no idea how his metabolism had changed, since his powers had waned he had felt comparatively tired and numb. Before Kryptonite basics like sleeping and eating had been more or less optional – in fact he had eaten whatever he liked, and when he wanted to, a lot of it, but had found this to be more for pleasure than necessity, he suspected this was no longer the case, just as he needed to sleep like a mortal man, he would need to eat as mortal man.

Conversation quickly returned to work. "The way I see things the real story is not so much what ever happened to the Man of Tomorrow, but where is and what is the Consortium doing?" He suggested.

"You are kidding? Superman is _always_ the story of the moment."

"Yes – exactly. Of _the_ moment. Neither of us know when or where Super-bad-man is going to turn up next. Whenever that happens, whoever gets the scoop... I mean if you're honest Lois you know that's going to be down to dumb luck."

"Unless we narrow the odds Clark, find out _why_ this character, who isn't Superman by the way, took apart the mail train?"

"In the week since he did that, as best as I can tell - no one, cops, reporters, who ever, has come up with a rational explanation as why he tore into the mail train, unless you count 'meteor madness'. Given he ignored cash money and other valuables, maybe it was I dunno' a moment of madness."

"What? Moment of madness for who? You mean for like, I don't know... say for forty-eight hours Superman goes loco, wrecks a train, and then vanishes?"

"Perhaps?"

"I'm not buying that idea." Lois said with conviction. Clark had to admire her unwavering faith in Superman, faith he personally did not have; because Clark couldn't account for over three days, time he had lost, and since then his nights had been plagued with these strange nightmares.

Lois sipped her coffee, then conceded. "However you are right, at least about the Consortium – that's still an important story, especially since Kingsley and Graham, as far as we know, are back in Metropolis."

"And it stands to reason that the Superman we both know would concentrate on bringing these traitors to justice, on breaking the Consortium."

"Okay Clark now you are making sense, you're saying to find Superman, I should start by looking where he's most likely to be found; chasing bad guys."

Lois finished her lunch. "Come on Kent, let's get back to the Star, and chase up some leads.

So it was Clark's first day back at work came to an end, new clothes, new circumstances, but the same mission, the same never ending battle for truth and justice; Lois Lane by his side, these were his thoughts as he succumbed to tiredness and drifted into sleep.

-'S'-

High in the Metropolis hills in the former estate of the Ultra Humanite, ruined crater under the light of a hunters moon. Unbeknown to men a hidden a shaft had been driven into the earth and rock by a titanic force, deep into the vast cavern created by the exploding Hyperion generator.

Rather than shrouded in deep darkness the huge chamber's blackness was interrupted by the green tell tale phosphorescent glow of Kryptonite, both the metallic and crystalline versions of various hues lay on the stone floor. A small collection of meteors collected on the fused glass like rock, the legacy of the heated explosion, the meteors themselves also the product of destruction, there was a circular logic that this place should be their home.

A lone figure hovers above them, the dark cloak hangs low, and from iron grip of dark angular hand a glowing rock is placed with the others. Energy crackles from the surface of the square fingers across to the pile of alien relics fragments of the substance that was once a long lost world.

In the darkness eyes glow eerily, a face clothed in shadows. A human shape augmented in size, angular, hard edged, and broad, giving the impression of great strength, and upon the chest in black metal the signature Kryptonian glyph that Lois Lane first interpreted as a snaking 'S'.

Standing, bathed in the strange emanations of the collected Kryptonite meteors the dark bizarre Superman seems transfixed. Then summoning his alien power he leaps upward defying gravity he charges throw the vastness of the cavern and exiting through a shaft driven for him, by him out into the night. His cloak stiffens in the wind taking the form a great wing and riding through the air, driven by the an unseen force they mystery man is drawn in search of the alien material that he longs Midas like to possess at any cost.

-'S'-

In Metropolis Kent and Lane finally get a lucky break in their hunt for the Consortium generals of crime; with time passing it was now almost Christmas. The two reporters leave the Star late in the afternoon. Their taxi crosses town to Little Bohemia, the district where the Purple Plague had hit hardest.

"Lois, are you sure this source of yours is sound?" Clark asked.

"Steven McBrodie. I think so, don't you?"

Kent nodded. "Ah." But wondered why his colleague had remained tight lipped about this lead. "Why didn't say back at the office?"

Lois sighed. "Back at the Star? Come on Clark, with Curly Lombard lazing around, mentioning Steven would of just invited smart-aleck comments – which no one needs."

"You and McBrodie are still friends – right?"

"There you go Clark, that's just what I mean." Lois stated coolly, before thinking better of it. "Yes we're friends, but just friends." She wondered why Clark would never look her in the eye; she felt he was being secretive again.

"I guess nobody measures up to Superman?" He noted.

Lois laughed the insinuation off. "He does sweep a girl off her feet, in more ways than one; but Steven and I... well it was never serious.

"Here this is the place." She added, pointing to bar on the edge of the Meat Packing District."

Clark paid the fare and they exited cab. "This is Graham's place?" He asked somewhat incredulously, it looked run down, not out of place for that, but it just didn't have the glamour of say Matson's Hotel, Clark had expected more of one of the city's crime lords.

"For the longest time. He started out from here, rose through the ranks." Lois replied.

"Looks kinda rough."

"It is, but it's also the place where you pretty much make a bet on anything, Steven couldn't walk in here and find out if there was any truth behind the rumour that Graham was back from the East Coast, because frankly he's too well known as one Metro PD's finest; they'd just blank him - but you and me, well we're just a couple in search of some action, if you see what I mean."

Clark nodded, he understood the game they would play, their cover story as it were. "You reckon someone might talk?"

"Maybe; that's why we're here."

At the bar Lois was direct. "I hear this a place a gal can get into a game."

"What kind of game are wanting to play honey?" The bar keep answered.

"Poker, something with cards. We've got cash." Lois replied pulling out and big wad of bills.

"Shhhh. Quiet down lady." The barman seemed annoyed. Lois shrugged and stuffs the bills fold back in her purse. Turning to Clark she said. "I guess they don't need money around here, funny I though since the plague, y' know business was slow, but what should I know."

"Wait. Just wait a minute, I'm just looking out for you, it's not the best side of town to go flashing cash, y' know c'mon lady let me just go see what I can do."

Clark and Lois found themselves in ushered into a room behind the main bar façade, it was bigger, cleaner and generally more cared for.

"This was a speak-easy back in the day." Lois told him.

"Gosh Lois do you know what you're doing?"

"Relax Cowboy." Lois replied taking a seat at a table, thick smoke hung around the group of men, the colour of the girl reporters money was all that mattered at this juncture, and she relaxed into the game.

Clark sat down at the black jack table, an older man stubbed out his cigarette, and turned his attention to the newcomer. He dealt the cards with practised hand, but everything about his manner spoke of boredom and quite possibly sadness.

Kent played a while, his conservative approach left him down a few dollars, and the low level proceedings did nothing to enthuse the dealer. Clark wondered how Lois was getting on across the way, he listened to the hum of voices from the poker table.

"Get you anything mister?" A waitress accosted him.

"Coffee?"

"Ah-huh she replied. "Yeah I can do that, sure you don't want to make it Irish?"

Clark shook his head. "No thanks, just the coffee." Thing was his metabolism couldn't be trusted to process the alcohol, once he could have quaffed poison and not thought a thing of it, now life was a good deal more uncertain, and yet as he studied his cards he noticed he heard over the sound of the piano being played on the stage, from across the room the lilt of Lois's voice, and the more he concentrated the clearer she sounded to him. Sure enough has he played a few more hands he could hear her steering the conversation around to the history of Graham's establishment, it's infamous days as a speak easy.

"You playing Boss? Or just planning on sittin' thinking about playin'." The dealer asked. He lit a cigarette and waited for Clark to make a decision.

Clark was losing money, this was after all a gambling den run by hoods, he was expected to lose money. By playing he was also creating a mental map of the deck, card counting the process was called, given time he was shortening the odds in his favour, but he was not here to win cash.

"This is Tom Graham's place isn't it?" Clark asked directly.

The old timer tugged on his smoke. "For a guy whose mighty cautious with his cards you sure shoot y' mouth off."

"Clark stared at the dealer's cads, one was according to convention face up, and was a King, the other card was dealt face down in human terms was an unknown, yet as he concentrated he began to see a pattern through the surface of the decorative printed background.

Smiling he realised that this in tandem with overhearing the conversation from the poker table confirmed to him his senses were gradually returning, having an eidetic memory meant he recall his earliest moments, and as with any baby he had begun life with limited focus, however as he grew his senses quickly outstripped his peers, and adults in general, now the same process was repeating itself.

With a hand of seventeen, Clark knew he was beaten by the two cards the dealer held, the second undisclosed card was he now certain a ten of spades. Now he concentrated on the shoe containing the deck if the card was a four of anything he was in luck.

"Well in life I find it's best not to be rash. If you are going to do something, it pays to know what you are doing." Clark replied, noting he was going to lose this hand. He played again, letting chance take him along until a similar situation arose, he had eighteen, and he was certain the Dealer was again at twenty. The next card this time would take him to twenty one. Clark bet heavily, and took another card.

"Twist."

The Dealer smiled and played the three of hearts. Then Clark indicated he was sticking at three cards, the Dealer seeing his total said. "House pays on twenty one buddy."

Clark turned his cards over.

The Dealer frowned. "You win Mister."

"I'd like to cash out." Clark said. Everything was theoretical, the bets were entered into a note book, they were no chips. If the place was raided the excuse was no money was changing hands, it was just all pretend.

Surreptitiously the Dealer passed a roll of cash, Clark took back what he had lost, so that he was even, and the balance he pushed back towards the old man. For a moment the dealer was stunned, but he swiftly reached for the cash, for the first time the old timer look animated, but Clark's fingers held onto the bills.

"Where would a guy find Mr Graham, say if wanted to, you know – say, discuss some business."

The dealer looked uncomfortable.

"Look Mister, I don't know what your game is, truth is Mr Graham's been out of town."

"Yeah I know he _was_ in LA, but I also know he's back."

"Not LA – not now I mean, sure he was out West, and he did call back here, but the Boss didn't stay here in Metropolis, he cleared out quickly."

"Where?" Clark tapped the money.

"Look there was gambler, the worse kind, the gee gee's, game, cards – the weather, the guy bet on anything, he was in real deep - but he was somebody."

"What kind of somebody?"

"A Professor they said, up at Met U."

"Barnett Winston?" Clark asked.

"Nah, that wasn't the name. Any-ways I didn't know him but by the name Ernie, Earnest Ernie we'd call him, he sure could babble on."

"What's Ernie got to do with Tom Graham?"

"Last time I saw the Boss he was having a talk with Earnest Ernie, him and Kingsley from over on the Westside; they left with the Prof' in tow. That's what I know."

Clark nodded and released the cash. He walked over to Lois.

"Are you winning Darling?" He asked, keeping up the appearance that she was his girl.

"About evens, you?"

"You know what they say, unlucky in cards, lucky in love." Clark replied.

One of players chuckled. "You is a lucky fella, this dame of yours is one sweet potato."

"She's also luckier than Ernie." Said another.

"And Prettier than the Prof."

"Who's Ernie?" Clark asked innocently.

"Oh Sugar, Doctor Dalton, was the gentlemen that would usually take my chair at this table with these handsome fellows."

"Oh nothing untoward happened to poor Ernie I trust?" Clark laughed, making a joke of his serious inquiry – keenly watching for a response.

"Nah, nothing bad, unless you think getting a job out of town is bad."

"Why do you ask?" The questioner had been silent until this moment. He looked Clark up and down, getting the measure of him. The air of menace about this particular well dressed man, the expensive suit had mobster written all over it.

"No reason, personally I would loathe to leave the Golden Apple." Clark quipped with a jolly tone, he smiled innocently at the gangster in the Italian crocodile shoes. Whoever this Dalton was, he was linked to both Kingsley and Graham, and Metropolis University. Perhaps even to Barnett Winston too.

Sensing the atmosphere had chilled towards him he turned to Lois. "Darling I hate to interrupt you but look at how the time has flown and mother is expecting us, and know how Mrs Taylor hates it when we miss one of her deadlines."

Lois in turn looked at him quizzically. He winked at her. She sighed loudly and said with an exasperated smile. "Sorry Gentlemen it appears I must bid you adieu." Getting up from the table Lois said her goodbyes, paid her dues, apparently Clark noted she was only a few dollars down. Lois then allowed Clark to take her arm together they walked out of the shady establishment.

Once in a hastily summoned cab Clark explained his conclusions.

Lois seemed pleased. "So you think Professor Earnest Ernie Dalton, late of the poker table, is the guy that could lead us to Kingsley and Graham?"

"Well what you do make of it?"

She considered Clark's question. "Okay Cowboy I see your point. Given the Consortium deals in stolen technology it's interesting they took a personal interest in a Met U professor, especially given the circumstances surrounding that Astronomers disappearance."

"It's getting late we'll have to wait until tomorrow to talk to the University."

"Unfortunately." Lois agreed.

-'S'-

Gamma Reynolds watched Kingsley relaxing in the living room of the rambling farmhouse that adjoined the hidden laboratory complex, the Ultra Humanite's gift to the Consortium. The Mobster cradled his drink as he lent over the fire place watching the flames roar in the grate as outside the Atlantic born weather front brought winter to the countryside. He looked across at Reynolds and said.

"Got to say I'm glad to have you over this side of the country. It's good to see something go right; Luthor has been handed over. That's got to be the first thing to go our way since Superman began messing up the plan."

Gamma Reynolds smiled. "Thank you for securing the services of Doctor Dalton he is proving most helpful."

The mob boss nodded. "You've not heard any thing more from the Ultra Humanite – have you?" Kingsley asked.

"I have not spoken with the Superior Intelligence since leaving California.

"But saying that Mr Kingsley I should advise you; don't go thinking I am willing to repeat the error's of dear departed Beta Reynolds, his self importance, his foolishness." Gamma sneered. "Thinking he could alter the well laid plans of his betters.

"The Consortium will concentrate on the plan as given, nothing more, nothing less."

Kingsley knocked back his drink. He glared at Reynolds, yet said. "I'm in no hurry to change a thing; after all Beta's grand idea for the Purple Plague, well that sure worked out badly.

"Damn Superman not only cheated us out five million dollars, but he nailed Jackson as well!

The mobster swore angrily. "And Jackson had just gotten Mayor Hansen nicely where we wanted him, now Hansen gone as well. I feel royally screwed."

Kingsley stared out the window. "Looks like I'm going to be stuck here for a while, the way this snow's coming down." He poured himself another drink mostly bourbon and a token splash of soda.

He sat down, and said. "Truth be told I was wondering if you knew anything about Superman raiding the mail train?"

"Nothing, if the Superior Intelligence had a part to play it that he hasn't confided in me.

"Honestly Kingsley, it seems out of character for the Man of Tomorrow - the papers seem to think so, then again it is in their nature to build heroes up and then tear them down again.

"If it was Superman he may have had good reason to do what he did."

"If it was Superman? Who else could it be?"

Gamma Reynolds stood up and walked to the fire, he warmed himself. "Who indeed, but we have no idea where Superman comes from, indeed what are his goals, his aims?"

"Well from what Cordell tells me, he isn't the team playing type, I can't see his goals being similar to our own; he values life way too highly, he stopped at nothing to end the plague."

"That doesn't mean he can't prove helpful."

"I can't see that happening."

"There are other ways Superman can help the plan, he doesn't need to lend a helping hand, his very existence demands people believe gods walk the Earth, and that is entirely fitting."

Kingsley leant forward and took Reynold's arm, squeezing, where is meat, where is the muscle? Huh Reynolds? Tell me where is the strength to match the Man of Steel's – when it comes to blows?"

"Life is in the blood, Mr Kingsley. Don't you know."

"What if it is." Kingsley said releasing the Ultra Humanite's chief agent.

"That is what we do here. We work with life itself."

"And?"

"The Superior Intelligence established Superman's abilities come from a highly evolved physiology, millions of years ahead of yours or mine."

"Come on, what are you saying to me this guy is from the future?"

"From our future? Or a possible future? Who knows from whence he came, but he came, now I have his blood, so I have his life; I am but a step away from his secrets."

Kingsley laughed. "Forgive me Reynolds Prime, but you're not making sense."

"I can't expect you to grasp scientific ideas that are decades ahead of their time."

"Try me, you might be surprised what I can grasp."

It was Gamma Reynolds turn to laugh. "Very well, put simply I am seeking to create, to evolve a man like you into a super-man using a serum, developed from a sample of Superman's blood."

"Your kidding right... Wait. You are serious." Kingsley stuttered. "Okay that is impressive, far more so than a germ weapon."

The mobster lit a cigar. "So how is it going?"

"Wonderfully well." Reynolds smiled, caught in the moment. "Initially they were real problems, but recently I have been able to move onto animal testing."

"What gave, I mean, why was there problems? Why not do the do-da that makes you guys, the Reynolds brothers?"

"Cloning? It's complicated. Even setting issues of time aside; we all have to grow up. The material would not replicate, I mean copy – do you follow me?"

Kingsley nodded. "Yeah I get it, you - the Reynolds, you are all like identical twins, but you haven't been able - how did say it – to clone Superman? So you are trying to work out how to copy his powers – right?"

At that moment they were interrupted. "Mr Kingsley, it is good to see you again."

The mobster stood up and greeted the interloper. "Ah Prof' Dalton. I trust you are happy with the facilities Reynolds has here." He shook the older man's hand.

"Oh it's incredible, so much more advanced than anything at Metropolis University, and the salary, well that helps too."

"And not being close to a bookmaker's also helps I should think." Kingsley added with a sly grin.

"Sir, I won't forget your err... generosity, and err... I'm too busy here to worry about the horses, well apart from the horses we have here. Obviously." Then he continued without a pause to pick up on the fragment of conversation he had just heard. "But it's really incredible stroke of luck, whatever happened, I mean for the Superman sample to start replicating in standard medium, I mean heaven knows why it should do that, but there you go, that's often they way with great breakthroughs, chance and fortune, the lap of the gods."

Kingsley, laughs. "Yeah well doc, you'd know all about chance."

Reynolds scowled. "What is it Dalton? What brings you here? Is all well with the test subjects?"

"Ah! Err... no, I'm afraid the latest err... tests have failed again. But the good news is the other earlier impregnations are still holding, and it's been y' know been several weeks, that's a real record."

"Problems gentlemen?" Kingsley asked. "Lady luck no longer shining on your work Reynolds?"

Gamma frowned. "It is simply a matter of establishing what was different, what environmental factors are at work, why these test subjects are stable and the ones before and later fail.

"I am sure we will determine the cause."

Kingsley puffed on his cigar, well if I was a betting man, I'd say there was something very different about last month."

Reynolds stared at him blankly.

"The comet man, I mean it lit up the sky for a week or so, either side of that huge light show, y' know when it was closest to the Earth. It was like some super Fourth of July.

"I know I'm not a scientist, but I can tell you we sure noticed the environmental effects at the bookmaker's and my clubs. Hell people went comet mad, the cops say it was like a full moon times ten, crime was up, drunk and disorderly was up, everything went nuts.

"I guess you guys were too wrapped up in your lab to notice it, up there I mean."

Reynolds laughed. "That's crazy how would a stellar event effect a biological experiment, there would have to be..."

"Something entering the atmosphere?" Dalton suggested.

Reynolds frowned at him, but the Professor babbled on. "Something like... say those shooting stars – meteors I mean of course, something about them.

"Say they've added to the natural background radiation levels perhaps?" Dalton suggested.

"We'd have measured that?" Reynolds snapped back, but his face registered a look of surprise and uncertainty.

"Only assuming we _can_ measure whatever they are, measure what really went on." Dalton said. "Look maybe it's all connected, the comet is mighty strange according to what I've read, then the meteor shower comes from it. Then what happens? Well Superman goes bad, people go crazy, and crazily enough our chimera's remain stable."

"That's one of hell a reach." Reynolds replied.

"That's why you gave me this job, because that's what I'm good at, taking chances, making intuitive leaps, least ways that's what you told me."

"That's what you told me to." Kingsley said. "Hire that guy, he's good."

Reynolds ran his hands through his hair. "All right Dalton. Let's test your hypothesis, let's see if you're right."

-'S'-

Clark pulled on the parking brake, killed the engine and exited the grey staff car. Lois made her way to the property, it looked a little run down, but according to the Registrar's office at Metropolis University this was the home address of Professor Dalton.

Kent waited beside his partner, a middle aged lady answered the door, her pinny covered in flour. She appeared flustered. The house was decorated for Christmas.

"Mrs Dalton?" Clark asked, doffing his hat. "We were hoping to speak with your husband."

"Why? Does he owe you money too?" She snapped.

"No, nothing like that. Quite the opposite." Lois replied. "We're reporters from the Daily Star, we're doing a follow up to the Purple Plague, the unsung heroes who worked behind the scenes to get the vaccine out to the city." Lois showed the lady her press card.

"Oh, I see. Yes Earnest leant a hand to medical faculty, he's really a biologist you know."

"Yes, Metropolis University, in fact Professor Danvers spoke very highly of your husband, and Doctor Travers also." Clark told her.

Her attitude softened. "I'm sorry to tell you he had taken a sabbatical, well more a working holiday. He's living out at his new place of work, he comes back at the weekend to see us, the children and I, so obviously today he isn't here."

"Oh. What rotten luck." Clark replied. "Adding whereabouts is he? Perhaps we could give call him by telephone, errm arrange an interview."

Mrs Dalton looked uncertain.

Lois noted. "That way he will get the credit he deserves of course."

"Do you have a telephone number, and address, perhaps we could send him a telegram?" Clark persisted.

"You say he'll be mentioned in the paper?"

Lois nodded affirmatively. "Yes, he certainly deserves recognition."

Mrs Dalton excused herself, and returned with a slip of paper. "This is my husbands place of work."

Lois reached out and took the note. It gave the name of Circe Farm Animal Husbandry and Breeding Centre, the address listed the nearest town as dormitory suburb south of Metropolis called Midvale.

"He's working with farm animals, making better milk cows and beef cows and so on, so he tells me. Of course he's coming back for Christmas day, but you appreciate that he won't have time over the holiday to talk to you, I mean family has to come first doesn't it?"

"Thank you Mrs Dalton, yes of course, perhaps we'll be able to speak to him after the twenty-fifth." Clark said. Lois bid the woman goodbye, and the two reporters returned to the grey ford."

"Damn it. Best lead we've had and we can't chase it. That's what happens when you get to Christmas, nobody can think of anything else except Santa and eggnog."

"Bah Humbug Lois?"

"Leave it out Clark, don't remind me. We've got to go and make jolly at the office party, don't we?"

"Taylor made it clear we were expected to be there. I didn't realise Christmas was such a big deal for him."

"Sure you missed this last year, you were with your family right?"

Clark nodded.

Lois continued. "Well it's got a lot to do with the Chief's wartime experience, but either way he likes to make a big deal of this time of year."

"I can't wait." Clark replied.

-'S'-

James Olsen Cub reporter had a hobby and that was photographing aeroplanes, so it came as unexpected and early Christmas Present when George Taylor – Editor in Chief of the Metropolis Daily Star - sent him on a solo assignment.

"By rights I should send Lois Lane." The Chief joked. "But seeing you are such a aviation buff I thought I'd let you cover this one, because in many ways this is all about the pictures."

"What is Chief?"

"Jacqueline Cochran is making an appearance at Pegasus Field. Let's just say I've got a tip off. Think about it Kid.

"Pretty woman, married to a rich and famous film mogul, who is also the best female pilot in America is going to be on our doorstep, I'm thinking a glamour shot – the beauty, and the the beast of a racing plane she's famous for."

"Murder! I'm on it Chief."

Olsen made his way through security and into the military base. Miss Cochran, as she liked to be called made her approach, her powerful race plane roared as it touched down on the run way, and Jimmy was there to take the pictures.

Cochran emerged from the cockpit immaculately turned out, as befitted the head of a cosmetics company, whose distinctive "Wings" logo was emblazoned on the side of her plane.

Jimmy photographed her being introduced to the base commander Colonel Lane. He couldn't resist the urge to exclaim, "Jeepers," as the lady in question looked his way and flashed a Hollywood smile in his direction.

"She's quite a Lady." The blond haired Army Air Corps Officer beside him noted. Olsen agreed as he watched the famous aviatrix escorted by Lane to a waiting Jeep.

"I'm James Olsen, of the Daily Star." Jimmy offered his hand.

"Steve Trevor."

"Pleased to meet you Sir. Any inside information on why a famous lady pilot has come to Metropolis?"

"Jackie is full of ideas, especially since the War began in Europe, and Colonel Lane is more accommodating to new ideas than most. Let's just say there are a lot of Americans who feel we should be doing more to help the British fight their war.

"Oh, do you know her well Captain?"

Trevor laughed. "You're a young un' to be chasing stories. Well who I am to dampen your enthusiasm.

"Sure I know Jackie, you could say she as a friend of the family now, but it began because was a big fan of my Mom."

"Your mother?"

"Yes my mother, Diana Trevor was an early aviation pioneer."

"Golly. Hang on Sir, I'm so sorry, I remember reading about her now. She was Island hopping in Greece when she didn't make her next scheduled landing... Sorry I shouldn't have..."

Trevor patted him on the back. "It was a long time ago now Jimmy, and unfortunately flying has it's dangers, as the mystery surrounding Amelia Earhart's disappearance a couple of years ago demonstrates."

"I'm sorry Sir that must have brought back a lot of memories."

Steve Trevor smiled sadly. "Well it did, but look at me, I grew up to be flyer too, so you can say I found my mother's courage inspirational."

"Captain Trevor you are right, your mother was inspirational." Jacqueline Cochran stated. She had made her way across to greet him.

"I will always remember Diana Rockwell Trevor alongside the likes of Harriet Quimby."

Jackie continued, winking at young cub reporter. "Quimby if you didn't know, was the first licensed female aeroplane pilot in America, you might want to use that in your story young man."

"Yes Miss Cochran, oh wow thanks. I think you are amazing."

"Jackie this young man from the Star, goes by the name of James Oslen."

Jacqueline Cochran was impressed by Olsen's enthusiasm. "Say James, have you ever considered joining the Air Corps, like our darling Captain Trevor?"

"Jeepers Maam, I'd love to fly."

"Wonderful James." Jackie waved back at Colonel Lane who beckoning her back. "Steve we'll catch up later okay, I've got some business with the Colonel."

The Aviatrix walked away, her neat beige flying suit was tailored perfectly.

"If you want to fly Mr Oslen, you could do a lot worse than the Army Air Corps?" Trevor told him.

"I'd be lying to say I hadn't thought of it Sir, but my Mom, well she's not too keen on my joining the Army."

Steve laughed. "Okay son. Look if you hang around I'll see if I can persuade Jackie to give you a proper interview, that should get you a byline shouldn't it?."

"Gosh Sir that would be great."

-'WW'-

Princess Diana of Themyscira ran like the wind, her hair following behind a great mane of vibrant shining ebony. Greek Hoplite spear in hand, shield in the other she moved like a dancer with the feline grace of lioness. The Princess of Themyscira was at one with the island paradise she called home.

Diana was last and greatest of incarnate Amazon Warriors. Fast, strong, wise, beautiful, possessing the eye of the huntress, the Amazon's had for centuries practised their own unique martial arts, and yet Diana who was barely twenty-one years old was more than their equal, she was uniquely blessed by the goddesses of Paradise Island a child protege now a grown woman.

The Chief of the Guard General Philippus stood to one side of Queen Hippolyta. They and the Amazon Oracle, Menalippe, watched the Princess of Themyscira approach the glorious marble Temple, one of many such monuments to the fallen dotted across the island. With them was the Priestess Akantha who tended this Shrine to the Fallen.

"My Daughter has grown in grace; see she even out paces Mala, and in full armour.

"Phillipus how fast these few fleeting years have past, wasn't it but yesterday that Diana was still a babe in swaddling clothes." The Regent of Themyscira said.

The Amazon General said simply. "Practise perfects. This the way of the Amazon, We embrace and honour the gods who birthed us; who gifted us with our abilities, by daily disciplining the mind and the body."

"Are you suggesting Diana is a little undisciplined?" Hippolyta asked.

Phillipus frowned. "I would only say she is still very young Majesty"

Menalippe smiled. "The first child of Themyscira is truly a wondrous young woman, possessing great strength of heart, of body, and of mind.

"She has the eyes of the hunter, but in her heart she loves the hunted, she is civilisation – fire tamed."

"You speak in riddles Oracle." Phillipus replied.

Akantha the Amazon Priestess looked up from her task. "Menalippe, the Princess was also blessed with the speed of Hermes, it seems to serve her well, she is almost upon us."

Hippolyta watched as Diana charged up the hill to the elevated Temple. "Yes Akantha, she has the blessing of our Lord Hermes." The Queen said. "And I can't help wondering how will this god-speed change her?"

Phillipus frowned once more. "Majesty what do you mean?"

"Diana has an acute mind, Amazonian trained and disciplined, all won in a handful of years, I confess I find myself wondering what kind of immortal will she be - after a handful of centuries, even a few thousand years? Will she still be like us then?"

"I would hope she would have learned more discipline." Phillipus said dryly.

Menalippe laughed. It was infectious. The Queen chuckled putting her hand on the stern woman's shoulder.

"I'm sure she will. Given time."

The women fell silent as the Princess approached. She thrust her spear into the ground, and removed her helm. Looking up the marble steps Diana asked.

"Mother for whom do we race, which great Heroine of Themyscira do we honour? The young Amazon was not even breathing hard, behind her others followed, first Mala, Diana's constant companion, and after her the Warriors of General Phillipus; the Amazon Royal Guard.

"We burn incense upon the fire today to remember one who fell defending Dooms Door against the monsters from Tartarus." Hippolyta replied. "Come Diana, it is time you saw this place.

Diana walked up the steps and through the heavy bronze doors that had on always in her experience been locked shut.

Once inside she looked around the Shrine to the fallen hero.

"What strange symbols adorn this place." She said. "I always wondered why it was here, though no one spoke of it." Diana turned on her heel looking around about her.

General Philippus answered "These are symbols are heraldry of the people beyond the World Ocean, the warrior who wore this coat of arms was fearless unto death, and gave her life saving this Island from the demons of hell."

Hippolyta took her daughter's hand. "This all took place in the days before you were born, and to remember her brave sacrifice forever, I called you after her, your name is her name, you are both called Diana."

-'S'-

The Christmas party at the Daily Star was winding down, guys were leaving to do their late shopping before the big day. Taylor manoeuvred Kent and Lane together getting Jimmy to bring Clark over, he in turn positioned Lois to left of the Mistletoe.

She for her part was telling him how they might have a lead on the whereabouts and maybe even an insight into the plans of the Consortium's leading men. It was interesting, but today Taylor was enjoying himself.

Jimmy acting under orders pushed Clark directly under the traditional sprig of winter greenery, just as Taylor hustled Lois one hundred and eighty degrees around to face him, nudging her under the Mistletoe too, at that self same moment.

Taylor blew a smoke ring, and smiled. "Well, well, kids, look at where you are now!"

"I think someone has had a little to much punch." Lois told Taylor. The Chief laughed.

"I think Curly Lombard, added to the punch more punch than Alice intended." Clark noted.

Lois shook her head a chuckled. "Okay come here Cowboy." She thought to herself she would dazzle the boy from Kansas with a real Christmas kiss.

Clark only a few weeks ago would have bumbled his way through this moment with self conscious ineptitude, but the last few weeks had made a big difference to Kent's life, his alter-ego had taken a back seat for once, his mission had been curtailed by human limitations. Yet in weakness, his strength of determination had grown, and now while tantalisingly his powers were ever so slowly returning, Clark not only appreciated his unique abilities all the more, but felt conscious of his mortality; the truth of the adage that time waits for no one seemed so more real, and seizing this moment he did not hesitate.

His lips met Lois's with all of himself, he did not hold back his true feelings, or pretend weakness, or shyness, or cowardice, here he was all he was - the son of two worlds, he had fire in his heart, and he brought all this to this moment.

He placed a super kiss on her lips, for it wasn't strength or speed that was needed for this to be marvellous, but strength of heart and true feeling.

Lois went limp in his arms. "Oh my word Cowboy, where did you learn to kiss like that." She gasped.

Clark winked at Jimmy, seeing his face agog with surprise, and calmly took a glass of punch from his boss. "Thanks Chief." He said, turning to Lois. "Here you are partner you seem like you need this more I do."

-'S'-

Gamma Reynolds looked at the glowing crystalline rock. "So Mr Graham; where did this come from?" He asked the Mobster.

"Canada."

"And you are certain it is a Barnett Winston Comet meteor rock."

"It glows doesn't it? How the hell should I know what a meteor should look like, you guys asked me to get you one, so I went looking. It was hard to find."

"Really I read there was a number of reported strikes across the northern hemisphere."

"Look I'm just a guy who is good at getting things other people can't get, all I know is what my network tells me, and they say in a matter of weeks those rocks have got a bad reputation for trouble; nothing but bad luck I'm told."

"What do you mean?" Kingsley asked. The Well dressed Mobster seemed perturbed by the suggestion from his colleague.

"Come sirs. We are men of the Twentieth Century – we hardly believe in superstition?"

"Say what you like Reynolds Prime. But I'm telling you that where these rocks go, disaster follows, fires, house collapse, guys ending up in hospital; and the rocks – well they go missing." Graham informed them.

"Sounds like there is someone collecting these things – by whatever means possible." Kingsley noted.

"Could be that." Reynolds acknowledged. "But we have one now, and it does seem to confirm the wilder suggestions of Dalton. There is clearly some energy being given off by this crystalline rock, quite what that is, I'm uncertain."

"Question is will this have the desired effect on your serum, will it mean the animals will stop dying?" Kingsley demanded.

Reynolds appeared surprised. "Really a man willing to poison a city is squeamish because a few animals are dying?"

Kingsley frowned. "People, you never know where you are with people, but dogs, well they are different; and it's not just dogs, you've tried this serum on just about every animal on this farm, and what have you to show for it, but a big hole in the ground."

"I admit there has been failures, but as you pointed out the Serum produced, and injected during the Comet's passing, these animals have survived."

"Have they shown any special powers?"

"No, but I have greater hopes for the serum we directly injected in-vitro."

"Come again buster?"

"Into the foetus; some of the serum was injected into the pregnant animal's baby whilst it is still developing."

"Perhaps I didn't want to know." Kingsley acknowledged.

Reynolds laughed. "Science is not a pursuit for the squeamish."

Kingsley frowned, but before he could counter the accusation, one of his own people interrupted them.

"Boss there is couple of reporters out at the house, the reckon they want to interview Dalton."

"Why?" Graham snapped.

"I don't know, they said something about how Dalton had worked on the Plague vaccine, doing up a story on the unsung heroes who saved the city, so they said."

"How did they know he was here?" Reynolds demanded, adding to his assistant. "Get Dalton. See what he knows." He turned to Graham's enforcer. "Did they say which paper they worked for?"

"The Daily Star."

Reynolds closed his eyes and cursed. "Don't tell me, one of them is a woman."

"Yeah she's a doll, looks like that actress that Butch knew."

"You know them?" Kingsley demanded.

"Yes Gentleman, I know them, and I do not doubt they know you two too.

"This can only be Lane and Kent, the dynamic duo of the Daily Star's front page, they're same two who brought Superman to the attention of Metropolis.

"In short my friends, if they are here, you can bet your last dollar it isn't just to interview Dalton."

Well maybe we should send Dalton out there – he did work on the Purple Plague, maybe that is the reason they are here, sounds reasonable enough." Graham suggested.

"Coincidence they choose Dalton for a story, and then come all the way out here just to talk to a minor player in that business, all the while here is the place where the plague was made, and here being the place where we are?

"No I don't buy that for a moment."

Clark Kent and Lois Lane waited in the rambling farmhouse, the roaring fire was welcoming, and Clark at once felt at home; but beyond the rustic charm of the well appointed home there was more to this operation than first met the eye. His vision powers were not working at anything like full capacity, but he absorbed enough to know this was nothing like any working farm he had ever visited, and the huge barn complex seemed particularly out of place.

It was however still very surprising to see Gamma Reynolds walk into the room with both Kingsley and Graham in tow; on the one hand it confirmed all their suspicions but also immediately placed them in serious danger. Something which Clark felt responsible for, and he was at a loss how to counter.

"Miss Lane, Mr Kent. I'm sure you recognise me, and my colleagues so let's dispense with any lies and tales you might think to tell, and cut through to the meat of the matter. You came here looking for what exactly?"

"Professor Dalton." Lois replied.

Reynolds raised his pistol. Clark moved to himself between the gun and his partner.

"Yes, it was Dalton that brought us here, because we learned he had be hired by Mr Kingsley and Mr Graham." Clark replied. "That you are here too, that is interesting.

"You are the same Reynolds from Los Angeles aren't you, I mean you have his colouring." Kent asked.

"And you are the same reporters who were at Colossal Studios." Reynolds acknowledged. "Now we know who we all are, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me what you expected to find here?" He reinforced his question with a gesture of his gun.

Lois was defiant. "Well we didn't expect to find a rat like you, maybe we thought we'd get a lead on where your mob boss friends were hiding out, looks like we were right, really right."

"Yes well aren't you the cat who got the cream, only to find herself caught in the dairy, with no where to run.

"Come Miss Lane, Mr Kent, you really came all the way out here on the off chance you might locate my two friends."

"Yes we did. It's been a slow news week, what with it being the Holidays and all." Clark replied.

"Hmm perhaps you have been lucky – unlucky, whatever, perhaps not. Maybe I need you to think more clearly Mr Kent." He turned and pointed the gun at Lois. Clark saw him squeeze the trigger. He place himself between the bullet and Lois.

Reynolds shot Clark. The slug entered on his left side close to his heart. Kent crumpled to one knee, he groaned, shaking he pressed his hand to stem the blood flow.

Lois screamed. "You monster why did you do that?"

"I meant to wound you, I thought Mr Kent might be more forthcoming, if you were hurt, seeing he has an apparently undeserved reputation for timidity, I expected him to talk more readily than you.

"But I have shot him, close to his heart, and I as a doctor I can tell you his life is very much in danger, so you now face the dilemma – and the same question applies.

"What do you know?"

"He told you, you bastard, he told you, we don't know anything."

"Perhaps I can shoot him again? Or maybe you." Reynolds replied calmly and coldly.

Lois was white with rage. "We knew about Dalton because we went to Graham's club, and we heard he'd been seen with Graham, that he owed him money, then his wife told us he was here - researching animal husbandry, that you were breeding better animals, that's all we know – I swear it."

Reynolds pocketed his gun. "Very well Miss Lane I believe you." He turned to Kingsley and Graham. "Have them taken to the lab."

"You don't want to waste them?" Kingsley asked nonchalantly lighting a cigar.

"Mr Kent will probably die anyway, but lets see, he and Miss Lane... well, she - at least, may as well be made useful, I wasn't planning human testing at this point but the information from such an experiment will only add to our knowledge. So yes have them put in one of the isolation rooms.

"Meanwhile I must see how Dalton is getting on building the projector unit to concentrate the energies from the meteor rock sample, he believes it will create a duplicator enhancement device, under whose rays we will enable us to create a new viable batch of Serum." Reynolds simply walked away.

The mobsters indicated to their guys to get hold of the bleeding Kent, and weeping Lane.

"Oh Clark." She cried.

He looked at her, and whispered with determination. "We'll be okay Lois, just you see."


	38. Chapter 38

Gio Zatara heard the shot and assumed the worse. He signalled to his partner, and the two agents closed in on the farm house.

The back door swung open, figures emerged, heavy set men carrying guns. Zatara found cover, likewise his colleague followed suit, ducking out of sight, behind a woodpile. The federal agents watched as more men followed with Lois Lane in hand, she was being carried kicking and screaming towards the barn complex, the Consortium's thugs nonplussed by her ongoing protest, this wasn't Metropolis, the nearest neighbour was literally miles away. They certainly weren't looking for and as far as these professional criminals were concerned the only response her caterwauling could hope to provoke was maybe frighten the cows. In contrast her partner Kent was being manhandled limp between two of the larger enforcers, his white shirt red with blood.

Zatara tucked his gun in the back of his pants. This was time for action.

"Hey guys, I think the lady doesn't want to play with you today." He stood before the startled thugs, dark suit and hat a stark contrast against the white winter landscape and casually lit a cigarette. "And Mr Kent, he looks like he needs a doctor."

A gun was levelled directly at Zatara. The man holding it spoke confidently. "And you fella are gonna be needin' an undertaker."

Zatara smiled. "_snug ot thrae_"

The guns dropped from the hoodlums hands hitting the ground, even from belts and pockets they tore free burying themselves in the snow as if pulled by irresistible force. Lois aimed a spiked heel down into her captors foot, an elbow was directed into his ribs, and she broke free.

"Clark!" She grabbed him as the thugs abandoned the reporters dead weight to try and recover their guns."

"All right boys." The distinctive Texas drawl announced. "Just leave them irons where they are, get them hands up, don't think I can take you all down before any you fella's gets the drop on me because you won't."

A defiant hand reached for a lost weapon buried in snow covered ground. This was followed by well aimed shot, the bullets whistled past the outstretched fingers. The hand was snatched back. "Next time it'll be your head."

"Federal officers Gentlemen." Zatara told them, only now drawing his gun. Gesturing for them to step into the barn. "That away fellas.

The Texan replete with Stetson hat asked. "You reckon you can rustle up some rope Miss Lane?"

"But Clark..."

"I'm all right Lois." Kent replied, struggling to his feet. "I'll make my own way.

"Gio, good to see you guys." He gasped. "You realise there is small army here..."

Shot's rang out from the Farmhouse. Bullets whistled past them. Clark despite his wound grabbed Lois and dragged her into the barn.

"Holding out on me?" She sniffed. She helped him as they ran. Kent stumbled and fell with her into a concrete stall, fortunately fresh straw broke his fall, the familiar smell of animals was mixed with chemical antiseptic masking the distinctive odour of death.

Zatara fell in beside them, he rattled out a few shots from behind the cover of the concrete, back out of the barn door. Huddling down he smiled. "How are you holding up Kent."

"I'll live." Clark replied.

Outside the thunder of a gun fight echoed.

"What about your buddy?" Lois asked

"Tex will be all right, he was born for these kind of odds."

"There is more of you right?" She demanded.

"Not yet." Zatara replied. "Maybe later. We were just following you two. I mean, little did we know you'd lead us into the proverbial lions den."

Clark looked at Gio, and then looked at Lois, and then he shook his head, mustering a wry smile as he did so.

"Okay, maybe we should have known." Gio acknowledged.

He produced a knife, and taking this he cut Clark's blood stained shirt open to get a better look at the wound. "Once I get Kent back on his feet I'll go help Thompson. Not that he'll thank me."

Zatara looked at bullet wound. "Doesn't look too deep Kent." He said with a puzzled voice. Then he added in whisper "_tellub emoc ot ria_."

Gio snatched something from above Kent, and pocketed it. Clark knew what it was, somehow the magician had drawn the bullet from out of him. The wound in Clark's chest began to bleed again. Zatara dipped his finger in the flow and then to both reporters great surprise traced in blood on the cast concrete slab stall wall beside them. '_laeh mih.' _Mouthing the words as he did so.

The air around Clark seemed to crackle and ionise and the wound in his chest closed, where as he seemed to glow, as Zatara shook, then after a long moment that was probably far shorter than it seemed, the strange atmosphere surrounding them was gone. Gio gasped, and gulped air hard, he was sweating, and seemed out of breath.

"What kind of man are you Kent?"

Clark looked at him stunned, he knew his wound had been healed, and he knew that did not make any sense. "I'm from Kansas." He said.

At the barn entrance a couple of the Consortium's thugs fell through. Zatara spun around a fired at them, bringing one down. The second found cover in another stall, returning fire at the crouched trio.

Behind the fire fight, secure inside the squat laboratory unit contained within the barn complex; shielded by thick soundproofed concrete walls, Dalton worked.

He was absorbed in completing his projector device, having already pre-assembled a rudimentary machine, he completed further modifications. Finally he was ready to introduce the key element.

Dalton gingerly placed the crystalline meteor rock into the main chamber, closing the lid on this metal box, he then using a variable resistor, turned the dial, gradually increasing the current to a light bulb he had installed directly behind the Kryptonite crystal. From within lead shrouded box a beam of light emerged having passed through the translucent meteor, the light in turn was focused through a camera lens so it could be directed towards a five sided mirror box. There the green energy struck the glass beaker within, containing in solution a sample of cells taken from Superman's blood.

Dalton watched as within the medium the cells began duplicating at unparalleled rate, so much so that translucent medium soon became milky opaque. He laughed with pleasure at his success. However his joy was short lived.

Above him the barn shook. Then the concrete laboratory substructure beneath was rocked by second almost instantaneous blow.

Dalton fell sprawling stunned and confused. Lights failed, and flickered, he rubbed his eyes, and tried to make sense of what was happening.

Staring at the chaos, Dalton could see broken equipment, fixtures, fitting, furnishing strewn around about. Much crushed under broken masonry, and all shrouded in clouds of white cement.

There in the midst of the dusty envelope stood a caped figure, a dark blue burnished metallic angular form, a dark purple red cloak billowing, the black S glyph sucking light into itself, two eyes glowing like fire.

Clark saw the barn roof collapsing, in super-time, he reacted instinctively, he didn't have time to think about how and why his powers had so suddenly returned. Though later he would thank Zatara's magic for prematurely purging the residual poisons from his system.

He wasn't himself yet, but he was much improved from his earlier weakened state. Tremendous energies coursed through him again, and he positioned himself between the falling timber support and his friends, catching the beam on his shoulders he altered it's course so it lay across the half walls of the concrete stall within the barn, saving Lane and Zatara from being crushed.

Dalton screamed the electric lights, the sole source of illumination in the windowless building within a building flickered dying, electric sparks leapt from broken cabling. The dark figure moved towards him, and the Professor cowered, shrinking away from the engine of destruction that had smashed his way through a reinforced concrete structure. Moving deliberately towards the projector assembly he smashed the fragile beaker sending its contents to the floor, the beam of green light flashed outwards and as the creature tore open the lead lined container.

The destroyer grasped the green crystal in his angular fingers, and then his mission accomplished, the Dark Superman left as dramatically and violently as he had arrived, smashing through the installation like it were so much paper and cardboard.

Dalton struggled away, coughing as dust filled his lungs, tumbling, stumbling as falling masonry threatened to crush him. Behind him the hiss of broken gas lines was mixed with sparking broken wiring, the combination was inevitably explosive. Dalton was thrown forwards to the exit, but stunned he lay unconscious as the ensuing fire in turn was fed by volatile chemicals, and burst outwards unchecked.

Clark concentrated is anger and pent up frustration, weakened, shot, and abused; and now nearly pinned down in a collapsing building. He pulled his glasses down and over the frames he concentrated on the gun of the second thug who had entered the building, it wasn't easy for him, but his rage at injustice fuelled his determination and heat vision engaged and the metal of the criminals gun suddenly grew too hot for him to handle. The hoodlum swore and dropped the weapon, Zatara dashed forward at that moment.

"Give it up fella." The G-Man said, adding. "You take your buddy out of here, before the whole place comes down."

Zatara watched as the thug dragged his colleague clear, outside the gun battle had subsided, the shock of seeing the building collapse had changed the situation.

"What have you done?" Reynolds hollered out across the divide between the barn and farmhouse, venomous anger colouring his voice

"Give yourselves up." Gio shouted back defiantly, he then turned to Clark. "He has a point. What just happened."

Clark shrugged. "Something brought the roof down.

"I'm going to check the lab, they may be people in there."

The G-Man looked Clark in the eye, there was a silent understanding between them. Both knew they had to do what they had to do. "Okay Kent, be careful."

"Clark, there's a fire there!" Lois protested.

"Yes." He agreed. Looking at her he said. "There are still animals in some of these stalls, I'll check the laboratory, you open the far barn doors." Clark pointed to the other side of long wooden building. "Then open the gates to the pens, and drive the animals outside. If the fire gets a hold of the barn, they won't last long."

Lois was about to protest, but Clark was already running towards the hidden structure within the barn.

It didn't take him long to find the unconscious Dalton, dragging him back out into the main barn and clear of the smoke, Clark splashed him with water from one of the drinking troughs in the stalls. He then carried across to where Zatara was crouching covering the main barn door.

"Tex has them pinned down in the main house, at least they can't charge us in here, but if they make a break for their cars out the front way, well they may get clear before our backup arrives."

Clark nodded, he pointed to Dalton saying. "I don't think this guy will be any trouble, he's more a victim of crime, than a criminal."

Dalton seemed to be recovering his senses, as Clark moved away, the scientist grabbed him. "He took the meteor, why did Superman do that?"

"That wasn't Superman." Clark replied. "Is there anyone else in the laboratory?"

Dalton looked confused, but he managed to reply. "Yes a technician, I think."

Clark was gone, sprinting back towards the building, many of the sub-partitioned rooms had lead shielding, obviously radiation was a factor in the experiments that took place here. Lead however also complicated the search. Granted his powers were still depressed, but even at full strength lead posed a problem, his 'x-ray' vision was compromised by lead. Kent's initial search had only revealed Dalton, but he now had to physically check the areas he had not been able to investigate remotely.

Once back inside the lab building, Clark found the fire an obstacle. Fortunately he had ace up his sleeve, or more accurately wrapped in a handkerchief in his top pocket. In a moment the compressed Kryptonian costume was revealed, the blood stained two piece suit was reduced to a tiny compressed ball, and the taking the alien cloth in hand, with his restored strength Clark was able to stretch this around him, the full cloak unfolded and draped across his shoulders.

Superman walked through the fire and smashed his way into the isolation chambers. All were empty, if they had been another man in the lab complex, then this man had found another way out. What troubled Superman more as he broke into one room after another, was the pervading stench of death.

Animal, after animal lay dead. Many of these corpses still frozen by rigor mortis in death agonies. He wondered what terrible experiments the Consortium had been working on using this farm complex and it's animals. He assumed it was biological warfare, and so it was rather than combating the flames Superman added to them, igniting the dead animals with his heat vision, burning them, thinking that fire was best solution to any dangerous microbes that evil science might have made after the likeness of the Purple Plague.

Finally he came to cage containing a mother dog and her puppies, she and her babies lay dead, their backs arched indicating a painful and cruel death, angrily Superman's eyes flashed red until he noticed the tiniest movement, a single pup, unlike it's siblings still lived, unlike it's siblings it's coat was white, not mottled. The mother appeared to have been some sort heavily built terrier, the father must have been a herding dog, a Collie perhaps even a German Shepherd.

Superman picked up the small newborn, and it nuzzled him and whimpered, making the high pitched squeak that a very young dog makes. Superman incinerated the corpses of it's family, and examined the pup closely, it showed no signs of sickness; he struggled and with great effort he summoned his microscopic vision. Quickly the Man of Tomorrow saw it was remarkably free from bacteria, and although he detected no dangerous micro-organisms, the horrible deaths of the other animals troubled him greatly. Yet this little mite, had so far, escaped that fate, and unsurprisingly it was both cold, and hungry.

Superman wondered if it secretly carried some terrible threat. Something he could not hope to detect. Looking into the tiny dogs crystal blue eyes he knew what he had to do.

Tex Thompson ran into the barn, his two Browning Hi-Power 9mm semi automatic pistols in hand, extending from the handle were specially made long magazines that increased the already fourteen round standard capacity, he smiled at Lois, span the guns cowboy style, before holstering them.

"Gio they're making a run for the cars." He told his partner.

"I feared they would."

"I couldn't cover both exits, I tried..."

"Don't worry about it Tex, we've got this guy, Professor Dalton, he ought to be able to shed some light on this operation."

"Where's the other reporter?" Thompson asked.

"He went in there." Lois told him her voice shaking, pointing to the laboratory, fire now billowed from the open doorway, and again from the holes smashed in the roof of the laboratory complex, these flames were licking the wooden superstructure of the larger barn that contained it.

"The main building will soon be alight at this rate." Zatara noted. He took hold of Lois's arm. "Come, we've got to go."

"Not without Clark." She insisted.

"Look Miss Lane, Clark must have got out another way, or..."

"He didn't get out." Lois snapped.

"Then we understand each other, now move it soldier." Gio snapped.

Lois's eye's blazed, but she responded; he sounded like her father, and she hated that, hated that he was right; reluctantly but quickly she began following the two agents as they pulled Dalton with them, and together they ran out of the barn.

"I saw something,.. well somebody it seemed crashing into and then out of there." Tex commented gesturing back.

"If it's Superman he's changed his modus operandi completely." Gio noted.

Reynolds was angry, apoplectic as he hammered the dashboard of the auto with his hands. Graham gunned the big car forward, he looked at the raging scientist with wary eyes. Reynolds brought out a radio transceiver, it had been modified, and included a large covered switch, Reynolds flicked this red cover back, flicked the relay across and hit a second button.

A signal was sent from the device to a series of detonators, the barn over structure which already began to catch fire, now exploded in pillar of smoke and flame, Lois, Dalton and two federal officers tumbled to the ground as the blast wave knocked them off their feet.

"Good thing we got ourselves clear of that place." Tex spat, pulling himself up from the damp snow. He yanked Dalton to his feet. Gio looked back at the inferno.

"Whatever they were doing there it's as good as gone now."

Kingsley followed Graham's auto, a third car followed his, the lead vehicle sliding it's way along the snowy track towards the main road, then Graham's car seemed to lose it completely. The big sedan slid all too much, suddenly going sideways and then around until it was facing the wrong way, jamming on the brakes all that Kingsley could do was slide inevitably into his partners car, he braced himself as the vehicle following slid sideways and smashed in turn into the rear of his car, sandwiching him between the two autos.

Kingsley watched as the roof of the first vehicle was torn clear away, there standing on top of it was Superman. Graham turned and desperately loosed some shots at the Man of Steel, they hammered into him, but ricocheted away. In the distance Kingsley could hear the sound of sirens approaching.

Superman shrugged off the bullets. He disarmed the hoodlums in the cars, hurling their weapons into the next field. A couple of guys attempted to run, in red blue blur Superman delivers a single blow to the nerve cluster behind the neck rendering them unconscious, stopping their escape.

The Man of Steel was back in action, and feeling all together more himself, he had missed this; the taking down the bad guys, saving the innocent – serving truth and justice. That was not to say he was back at full strength, rather far from it the Man of Tomorrow felt a painful sting as the bullets rebounded from his body. Still Superman felt grateful for what he had regained.

As he hurled the last of the hoods weapons out of their reach, Superman heard another car. Zatara, Thompson, Lane, and Dalton drew up in Federal agents black sedan.

Clark's suspicions about Gio Zatara had been confirmed, suspicions he had held since their meeting in LA. On that occasion he had seen Zatara light a cigarette using only his fingers.

Granted the former stage magician was clearly skilled at illusion, Clark has seen this when at the Sanderson Chumley Clinic the Federal Agent had appeared to pull the keys to Daily Star's staff Car magically from behind Lois's ear.

Kent had recognised this for what it was, a slight of hand illusion; and of course Superman himself had learned how to perform that kinda of magic as a boy.

However back at the Sunset Strip Nightclub belonging to Cornell, Superman was uniquely able to see, that the fire that lit Zatara's cigarette came out of nowhere, nowhere but his fingers tips at least. This trick was not slight of hand, and it had been more than mere illusion.

More importantly the magic Zatara had used to draw a bullet from out of him was not illusionary; Reynolds had shot the heavy .45 at Lois, and Clark had stopped the bullet from hitting her, and the slug had torn into his previously bullet proof hide, a mere man would have been killed; but a weak Clark was still far more than any man.

Yet it was with magic Zatara had then healed his wound, this same magic Superman felt sure had somehow accelerated his recovery, permitting the strange energies that powered him to flow once again, strengthening him, giving him back his powers faster and more completely than the slow incremental improvements he had felt in recent days.

He owed Zatara a debt of thanks, but Superman had no idea how the Magician had performed the real magic he had seen and experienced, this both fascinated and perplexed the Man of Steel. However it was a great relief that a man like Zatara, and his friend Tex Thompson were on the side of truth and justice. The Agents covered the confused and reluctant prisoners.

"Superman!" Lois called out. "Did you save Clark? Do you know if he is all right?"

Alighting beside her he said. "Yes Kent is fine, I can assure you he is about to start the Daily Star's Staff Car and catch up with you shortly."

"Where have you been?" Lois demanded.

"I have been busy Miss Lane." Superman replied coolly.

"But the other Superman, the bad Superman..."

"In time Miss Lane I'm sure the truth will be revealed, but you were right Lois it wasn't me." He added with more warmth.

"Agent Zatara. Agent Thompson." Superman acknowledged them with a wave of his hand as he turned to leave.

"Wait! Superman. I have questions." Zatara called out.

"And when I have answers we'll talk." The Man of Tomorrow replied leaping skyward he disappeared into the clouds.

Later in the grey ford Lois watched as Clark drove, his new suit looked like it had been pounded into a tiny ball, and then unravelled, which of course it had. It was black with smoke and blood stained; basically the suit was ruined.

"I guess this means you'll be back wearing one of those awful blue suits tomorrow." She said finally. "You realise what this means don't you?"

"That blue material doesn't crease so badly I find." Clark replied. She meant more shopping, but he wondered when she was going to mention the inexplicable powers of Agent Zatara. He did not have wait long.

Lois pulled a face. She looked at the bloodstain on his ripped shirt. "Before when I was with Gio in his car, he asked me not to mention in any report I file, the fact he healed you." She said, finally broaching the topic strange event.

"A-huh." Clark replied. "I thought as much. Did he say it just like that."

"Pretty much."

"I'm guessing he said he would deny it every happened." Clark suggested.

"Yes." Lois acknowledged. "Really it doesn't matter, it's like the Chief would say, 'who is going to believe the truth, when the the truth is stranger than fiction'?

"Any way what really matters is that you're okay."

Lois turned her body to him and looked across at his profile. She said. "Clark I've been impressed with you just lately, not just your work, that was always good, but it's as though you've seem to have found yourself, you know."

"Thanks Lois, but I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Well I mean, like back there, in the barn, running into the burning lab for Dalton, and then going to look again for his assistant."

"Oh yes, well I don't know what came over me, I guess I couldn't just stand by and let people die.

Lois frowned. "The assistant? I guess Superman got to him first?"

"There wasn't an assistant, at least so Superman told me." Clark replied.

Lois looked at him. "You know Clark since you lost that weight, I've noticed how much you and Superman look alike, it's odd you could be brothers."

Clark laughed. "I don't know about that Lois, I mean when you see me flying around like big red and blue does, then sure maybe you can say that."

Lois laughed, and then smiled relaxing back into the seat. "What's that noise?" she asked.

"What noise?"

"Not sure, it sounds like... it's coming from behind me." Lois looked around. "Hang on, it's coming from this." she exclaimed, turning around and reaching into the back seat she brought the bag across to her lap.

It was a brown leather classic briefcase, the vertical kind, that opens at the top, and it was wedged open.

Lois looked in, and then across at Clark, her face taking on a strange shocked appearance.

"Clark there is a puppy inside here.

"Oh my word he so cute."

"Err I rescued him from the lab." Clark confessed.

"Oh, but he's so tiny, where's his mother?"

"She didn't make it Lois, there's just him."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll feed him formula, I know what to do, I am farmer's son, he isn't the first orphan I've raised."

"Clark you are a soft hearted fool, at times that's annoying, right now, it's wonderful and this little guy he's adorable."


	39. Chapter 39

Captain Steve Trevor eased forward the twin throttles of the Lockheed XP-38 and accelerated out across the Atlantic.

Following their in-house tradition the aircraft manufacturer had christened the 'e_X_perimental _P_rototype 38' Atalanta after the fleet footed heroine of Greek Mythology. Atalanta had been rebuilt after a rough landing following a transcontinental record breaking run. The twin engined heavy fighter had set a cross-continent speed record by flying from California to New York in seven hours and two minutes.

The subsequent rebuild had seen modifications made to the wing and tail, which were intended to address issues with the aircraft's handling characteristics, and new superchargers were being trialled to boost the planes performance. Equipped with the under wing supplementary fuel tanks for extended range this flight was all about speed and distance. Trevor, was an officer with USAAC Reconnaissance and he was attached to Military Intelligence. The experienced aviator had been charged with testing the planes secondary but vital reconnaissance role.

After taking on fuel at the Naval Air Station Fort Lauderdale, Florida, he had followed a course that would take him across the open water of the north-western Atlantic Ocean and back to the Bahamas's. He would make reconnaissance runs over shipping, and when reaching the islands use the friendly landscape as a dry run for a mission over enemy territory.

Trevor was not a superstitious man. The Naval ground crew who had tanked his plane had joked with the experienced pilot that his mission would take him into the Devil's triangle, here legend had it, ships and planes had inexplicably vanished. Steve had laughed off these stories. Now as he flew into the infamous region of Atlantic ocean he hardly gave it a second thought.

That was until he noticed his gauges playing up.

"Fort Lauderdale tower." Trevor radioed out. "This is XP-38 Atalanta, I am suffering instrument failure. Repeat I am suffering instrument failure.

"Will attempt to put the sun on my port wing and return to Fort Lauderdale. Over."

Trevor winced as a load of static erupted into his head phones. He thought he could hear the tower but the interference made it impossible to be sure.

Tapping the glass of his compass, Trevor was alarmed to see it literally spinning like a top, below him even the sea seemed to revolt against it's nature.

"Fort Lauderdale Tower, this is XP-38 Atalanta. Please respond. Fort Lauderdale... Guys something crazy is happening here, I hope you can hear me... there is a white mist welling up from the surface of the water, and the sky, I can't begin to describe this, it's like it's turning dark, purple not blue and at the horizon its all pink. The sea is suddenly appearing green, and I am seeing lightening all around me.

"Good Lord! It's everywhere. Lightening just started flashing upwards, downwards; God help me, its flashing from side to side, it's everywhere.

"Where is the Sun dammit!" He cursed as he searched the distorted heavens.

Trevor shook his head, he felt disorientated, as he flew he was fast losing any sense of perspective, even direction, even which way was up, which was down, he felt like a drowning man lost underwater.

Struggling he was determined to get through this. Flying by the seat of his pants, Trevor got a grip of his fears and felt certain he was diving rather than flying level. Then as the airframe began to shake, he sensed the vibrations were emanating from tail-ward; it felt like the Atalanta was accelerating way beyond her impressive 400 mph plus top speed.

"Tower... I'm losing her, I'm losing her." He shouted into the radio, with no idea if his transmissions were getting out back to the mainland.

He fought with the yoke, holding the wheel steady as the vibrations pummelled him, trying to pull the aeroplane up as the inherent aerodynamics caused the nose would tuck under, steepening the perilous dive. Caught in this downward plunge, the experienced fighter pilot sensed the Atalanta had entered a high-speed compressibility stall, his controls were locked up. He had no option, at this speed bailing out was nigh-impossible, his best hope was to remain with the aircraft until together they found lower, denser, air where he might have a chance to pull out of this murderous dive.

Together pilot and plane dove towards the misty green waters, riven by electrical discharges, and coloured by bright flickering rainbows, fighting he managed to arrest the dive, then as plane's nose rose the aircraft shuddered and dove into unexpected blackness. A whirlpool, a vortex of nothingness appearing suddenly before him out of apparently nowhere directly in the path of the Atalanta.

Darkness, a deep blue purple cave, thicker than deepest night

A lightless cave suspended in the air, a black hole in the sky. A silent enveloping place.

The Atalanta like lightening flashed in the darkness, bright for a moment, then it was gone. Then came the thunder. A crashing roaring noise.

Then everything was normal once more; the sea was blue, the sky was blue, the sub shone, it was a beautiful January day, the kind the rich famous flocked to the Bahamas to enjoy. There was no sign of the inexplicable chaos, the darkness, or of Steve Trevor, and Lockheed Atalanta.

In Fort Lauderdale the records of Trevor's last garbled, confusing transmissions were passed back to USAAC and to his commanding officer Colonel Lane a Pegasus field Metropolis.

Records would soon show the XP-38 was scrapped after it's record breaking run to New York due to damage on landing. Steve Trevor was listed as missing presumed dead. His file was sealed; stamped Top Secret, and locked away in secure storage.

-'S'-

Superman accelerated across the blue crisp winter sky, his speed increased as he tested the limits of his powers once more. Each day he pushed himself, following a regime of training to recover his past strength, lost to him due to radiation poisoning from the short lived Kryptonite isotopes the Barnett Winston Comet had shed into the Earth's Atmosphere.

Below in Metropolis, in the beloved Maggie's, the diner on the corner Washington Street down from the Star building. Lois Lane exacted one half of her deal with Gio Zatana. She had reminded the former Magician that there were other papers besides the Star. Publishers with a low brow tabloid standards, hungry for the sensational. Zatara had played the game with her and they had made a trade; her silence over his unorthodox abilities, for the promise of interview piece on the lives of Federal Bureau of Investigation Officers in Metropolis, who were battling insidious Fifth Columnist infiltrators.

Today however she interviewed his Partner; one Tex Thompson.

"Mr Thompson. You're from Texas?" She asked. Her eyes alighting on the Stetson hat on the bench seat beside him. Along with the boots he sported this really was a Cowboy.

"I sure am Miss; and it's Tex, please call me Tex, everyone does." He sipped his coffee.

"All right." Lois laughed, applying charm, she asked, jokingly. "Well you wouldn't be related to Thompson's who are Thompson Oil would you?"

"That would be my Uncle Jnr. Yeah and my Pa." The Blonde haired man replied.

Lois mouthed a surprised "Oh." The suit he wore, with hand made cowboy boots of course, didn't just look expensive, it was.

The Thompson's were rich, and Texas royalty, a ranching family who had drilled early in the century for black gold, and had found plenty.

Lois smiled as she made a note in her pad, flicking back over to previous the page where she had made an number of entries, pulled from the Star's files, before coming to the diner.

"Right... so..." Lois screwed her nose up as she read back her own short hand, crossing out a number of Texas Thompsons on her list. "That would make you the same Trey Thompson who should have represented the United States at the 1938 Olympics. The sharp shooting team – right?"

Thompson nodded.

Lois continued. "You were tipped for individual gold wasn't it, for rapid fire Pistol shooting?"

The blonde haired Texan smiled modestly. "I can't tell a lie Miss, that was me."

"But you had an horse riding accident? One that meant you missed the games?"

"A-huh." He replied. "Not my best moment, but I can't blame the horse, she was spooked by a rattle snake, I was little hung over, and she threw me, and I found the ground, well a big rock as it happened disagreed with me, there was a brief fight, I hit the rock, the rock won."

He tapped his arm. "Can't shoot straight with a break, and couple of busted ribs didn't help neither."

Lois scribbled in her pad. She took a drink from her coffee cup, collecting her thoughts.

"Mr Thompson, I mean Tex, why are you working at the FBI?"

"With the FBI." Thompson corrected her. "I'm affiliated to - not strictly speaking an employee of the agency. Being a new-boy they've still got some hoops for me to jump through."

"Yes I see, but why? I mean... why would a gentlemen with your many err talents - with your background, why law enforcement when you could be doing any number things?"

Tex laughed. "Being a Playboy you mean? If you know my background you know how I lived my life until very recently.

"Lets just say Miss Lane - been there and done that. "

"I was thinking more of the Oil business,.. but now you say what made you change your lifestyle?"

"I'd say Hitler did that for me."

"Hitler?"

"Let me explain.

"On 3 September 1939, just hours after Britain declared war on Germany, I was just another first class passenger enjoying the good life on a pretty ship called the Athenia."

"Oh my word!" Lois said. "She was torpedoed by a U-boat."

"Yes, she was.

"They say the German's mistook her for an armed merchant cruiser, but with the Nazi's who knows?

"The Athenia Miss Lane was carrying over eleven hundred innocent civilians, including more than three hundred Americans."

"Yes, we reported it. A criminal act by a criminal regime."

"It was indeed."

"What happened?"

"Well I boarded in Glasgow, Scotland, and I was travelling to Montreal, Canada. By the evening on the third day we were north west of Ireland when without warning two torpedoes hit the hull, and she started to go down. As you know that was an attack which was in violation of the rules of war."

"Obviously. It must have been terrible."

"It was difficult, around a third of people, passengers and crew perished."

"That experience your saying it informed your choice of career."

"Yes that and oddly enough - well perhaps not oddly, at least from your perspective – my decision was also informed as you put it, by the Daily Star. Even while I was abroad I read your paper. Reports of Superman; who was inspiring, as your papers Editorials were challenging. That Fifth Columnist infiltrators were causing trouble here in America – that was alarming; and having seen the work of the fascists first hand, I decided I needed to make a difference.

"As soon as I got back to the States I contacted Gio." Thompson explained. He paused for more coffee, then saying simply by way of explanation. "Gio and I are old friends, I had met him at the Flamingo club in Las Vegas when he was still working his stage act.

"I knew he had joined the FBI, and I thought he would be well placed to help me. I wasn't sure how I could - only that I was angry, and that I wanted – needed, to do my bit to defend my country.

"As it happens with my sharp shooting experience, among other things, I was considered to be useful, and Gio agreed to mentor me, taking me on has his partner.

"A little later I run in to you and Kent; and a major fire fight, followed by an exploding building, and I got to see Superman. As far as excitement goes I think I made the right choice of career, don't you?"

Above Metropolis Superman made a bee line for his Secret Citadel, there he had constructed a super-gymnasium; building his own machines weighted to test his stamina, and strength, all part of a self imposed regime, a program to bring him back to full fighting fitness.

As he laboured under the great hydraulic presses Superman found time to reflect. The Kryptonian matrix had through the avatars of his long dead biological parents confirmed that worst of Kryptonite radioactive isotopes had decayed to negligible levels.

They couldn't explain how Gio Zatana's magic had purged him of the lingering poisons that sapped his strength. Clearly there were limits to Kryptonian science in this universe, the world of Earth, here the physical laws were different from that of Krypton, different forces were at work here, and magic was one on them.

Perhaps more perplexing was that artificial intelligence of the Matrix offered no explanation for the other Superman.

Clark Kent had made use of the Daily Star's developed news gathering network. He had watched for unusual events, unexplained thefts fitting the modus operandi of the other Superman. It was clear to him his dark doppelgänger was committing crimes across North America, crimes with a specific purpose. He was now certain that the other Superman was stealing, collecting Kryptonite.

A simple plan formed in his mind. One that now only needed opportunity to carry out.

Breathing deeply he left the gymnasium he had carved out of the mountain, and entered the main hall of the citadel. The Kryptonian Matrix was observing the puppy he had rescued from Gamma Reynolds.

The holographic projection of his mother Lara phased into apparent solidity. "The man called Dalton was not lying. These people were experimenting on animals using your cells, using cloned material."

"How can they have done that? Mother you told me my cellular structure is far more complicated than other humans, than living things indigenous to earth, I thought cloning me – as the Ultra Humanite did with Reynolds was impossible?"

"Kal-El, your cellular structure _is_ far more complicated.

"Your cells are specifically designed to make cloning functionally impossible. Clearly a sample from you, probably blood, was obtained by the Consortium. They extracted cellular material from this, which in turn was exposed to the sudden spike in Kryptonite radiation in recent weeks. Simply put these cells were outside of you, outside of you bioelectric aura, they were more exposed to anomalous radiation as result; mutations occurred, and their programming broke down, they multiplied.

"Normally nothing like this should ever have happened, but as know, these last few weeks have been exceptional to say the least."

"Mother why was it that these animals all suffered such horrible deaths?"

"Darling each cell within you is comparable in complexity to a futuristic Metropolis. Engineering on an subatomic scale means incredible tiny biological machines are constantly at work.

"Among these tiny living machines are ones whose specific purpose is to maintain and repair, not only each individual component of every cell of your body, but to also multiply and repair themselves. I believe the Kryptonite radiation damaged the chemical instructions that these Kryptomites follow. As with most mutations these changes were not beneficial."

"Which is why their attempts to create a serum failed time after time, why the animals they tested the serum on all died." Superman observed.

"Correct Kal-El, but as with the process of natural evolution, occasionally a mutation arises that is functional – even beneficial."

"Then will my cells poison this puppy or will he survive – is he the exception, the benefiting from a functional mutation?"

"That is the remarkable thing, this might be the case. The Kryptomites are working at every level within this animal, and yet there has been no adverse reaction. The Kryptomites are multiplying and entering into a symbiotic relationship with every cell in it's tiny body, apparently they are successfully interacting with them."

"What will happen?"

"Again Darling there is insufficient data to answer your question authoritatively, however it appears that Kyrptomites are recreating the more highly evolved structures you possess within the cells of this animal, adding, altering and adapting as they go, whether these new structures will be functional, or simply vestigial, I don't know.

"Equally altering the animals existing biology may still yet result in catastrophic failure, the Kryptomites are adaptive, they designed to be so, but that same design also precluded them from functioning like this in another species, but the unforeseeable introduction of Kryptonite radiation that has clearly made this possible.

"Kal-El you know we are not fully conversant with how Kryptonite arose, neither do we fully understand how this new form of living metal functions, or how it causes such radical mutations in other living things."

Superman nodded as knelt stroking the young puppy. "Again we must wait and see."

-'S'-

Lex Luthor relaxed in comfortable offices the Third Reich had provided him, the well equipped and staffed laboratories and associated facilities, were exemplary. For the first time the young scientist felt truly liberated. Free of the normal constraints of good business practice, the restrictive regulations of medical and scientific law, the Nazi Party was only interested in results. This was good, because Lex Luthor was only interested in results too.

The package was delivered to him by his secretary, he thanked her in German, he was working on improving his command of the language. Taking it he immediately recognised it had been despatched from America, by diplomatic courier.

Opening the well wrapped parcel revealed a locked box, the simple symbol confirmed it had been dispatched by the Metropolis Consortium.

Lex possessed a key. One that had been given to him as an appointed agent by Reynolds. He knew it would open this box.

The contents of the special protective container were reels of magnetic audio-tape. He wasted no time in loading the first of these, numbered accordingly, to his own Magnetophon. Gamma Reynolds voice played over the speaker.

"Doctor Luthor these tapes contain details of my research. The fact you are in possession of them means the Farm has been compromised and I am no longer free to operate.

"A third party operative had orders to collect these records from my safety deposit box in Metropolis should this happen.

"In accordance with the Superior Intelligences standing orders on the loss of the Farm complex, this information has been passed onto you, since you possess the remaining biological sample.

"I trust these findings will assist you in your research."

Lex stopped the tape, and smiled. Reynolds had never informed Luthor that he too held a sample of Superman's blood, but Lex had assumed it. It made sense to have more than one team working on the problem. Coming to an understanding of how the Man of Tomorrow was able to perform such incredible feats, was never going to be easy. However Lex felt more secure in the knowledge that he was now the only man in possession of both the knowledge and the material to crack open the secrets of Metropolis's Man of Steel.

Reaching for a note book an pen, he engaged the Magnetophon, and began to transcribe Gamma Reynolds findings.

-'S'-

Clark Kent read the news-wire report, and a wry smile crossed his face.

"What is it Cowboy?" Lois asked.

Kent handed over the paper.

"Rrrright, okay that's all yours." Lois replied. "Definitely science guy news. In fact I can't see it making the paper, there a world of difference between a big shiny comet lighting up the night, and some professor announcing he's found a tiny weeny piece of it.

"Where are you going?"

"To meet his plane, he's flying into Metropolis Harbour on a Sea Plane up from Florida." Clark said grabbing his hat.

"Why?" Lois asked.

Clark was already hustling his way out of the Newsroom. "You could always wait until he gives his lecture, I mean what will they be to see... a fella getting off a plane?" Lois called out after him.

She shook her head, at least she thought as she watched the Kansas Farm-boy hurrying out the door, he did go and buy another better fitting suit.

Superman watched the Sea Plane approach the harbour, there was long covered pier that extended into the water, as the aircraft touched down it back to taxi towards its mooring point.

All the time his eyes scanned the surrounding area for his dark doppelgänger, from the scant details included in the press release Superman felt certain the meteor that had come down in South America, that had been located by the noted scientist George Grant while on holiday, was Kryptonite.

Grant had noted in his press release that his discovery had extraordinary properties. Superman examined the Plane remotely using his vision powers, he identified Grant and concluded the scientist carried the Kryptonite in his hand luggage, in lead lined box. That Grant had determined the meteor was radioactive in new way was both interesting and fortuitous. Superman was in no hurry to expose himself to the deadly emanations of the strangely mutated metal from his home world.

At the same time Superman looked and listened for his dark doppelgänger. He expected him.

Superman was not disappointed.

The other caped man landed on dockside he appeared to be watching the emerging crowd, searching for Grant or at least the Kryptonite he carried.

Screams went up, it's Superman people cried out. Police came running, the Man of Steel was now a wanted man, identified as thief and a robber, the hand behind a number of raids.

Superman a blue red blur came to ground beside his doppelgänger, and in the afternoon sun the strange figure was clearly visible. Dark Blue metallic, angular, mechanical in appearance, glowing triangles for eyes, a crease gave the impression of nose beneath that a bulbous grill like circular protrusion resembled a mouth.

"A Robot?" Superman exclaimed. Why he wondered had the metal man copied the S glyph onto his chest, was there a link between this robot and Krypton?

His 'x-ray' vision did not penetrate the strange metal man's form, and as the two caped marvels circled each other Superman began to sense the presence of Kryptonite. Searching the crowd his first instinct was to look for George Grant, thinking perhaps the container holding his meteorite had been compromised.

"Superman, Eh? It was fated that we should meet. I am Metalo." The dark figure spoke in hollow echoing tone, rasping and grating.

The crowd seeing the two caped men facing together, began shouting. "Look Superman!" "There's two of them!" "They're in cahoots!" "No. Superman hasn't gone bad!"

"This ends here and now Metalo. I don't know why you are doing what you are doing, but I'm ringing down the curtain of your career of crime, before someone gets seriously hurt."

Metalo laughed. "You fool! I am protecting the world."

Superman moved to block his path. Two metal hands seized hold of him. To the Man of Tomorrow's astonishment Metalo's strength was comparable to his own, or so it seemed, because there was something else happening to the Man of Steel as he struggled, held fast in the robot's iron grip.

Superman suddenly felt weak and dizzy. The Man of Tomorrow knew he was being exposed to K-Metal radiation, and the source was very close. Metalo began whirling Superman around to hurl him away, far across the water.

Superman struggles against this, fights to right himself in the air, and take back control, as he succeeds, the Man of Tomorrow realises he was looking in wrong place - the Kryptonite radiation he had felt moments before had not come from Grant's meteorite, but from Metalo. Superman thought, this robot has become radioactive from handling Kryptonite!

This called for a different approach, speedily Superman charged at the robot, flying like a missile. Impacting Metallo hard, the Man of Steel's grimaces as his outstretched fists smart and bruise, but Metallo tumbles back, smashing into the concrete dock. Superman grabs the fallen Man of Metal, and sees that a series of fine cracks like a spiders web seem to spread away from the impact point of his missile like blow. The two titans exchange blows, but Superman is again exposed to the Kryptonite radiation, a counter punch contacts hard sending the Man of Tomorrow tumbling across the dockside.

Superman knows that he can damage Metallo, the cracked metal casing of the robot proves it, and yet the same is true for Superman; Metalo can and is hurting him back. The first body breaking blow Superman struck against his dark doppelgänger was also his best; to battle the radioactive robot, meant that the Man of Steel's strength and durability could only weaken with increased exposure to Kryptonite radiation.

Metalo turns to the crowd again seeking his quarry, seeking the Grant and the Meteorite.

Superman in turn has no choice but to try again to stop Metalo, he hits fast, striking hard, hammering home his fists. Superman unleashes his heat vision pouring energy directly at Metalo, trying to concentrate the machine-gun rapid pounding on the same place as the heat; aiming at the centre of Metalo's trunk, at the point of weakness. However unlike the Adamantine the the Man of Metal's hide soaked up the energy from Superman's eyes without weakening, in fact he seemed to grow stronger!

Metalo pushed back, raining counter punches with similar gusto, bruising and battering the Man of Tomorrow. Each blow as deafening as thunder-clap.

Superman is aware of how their battle is panicking the crowds, the confusion and the danger this fight brings to Metropolis docks. Aware that his heat vision was having no visible effect, that his strength was failing fast, Superman does what he must, the Man of Steel puts the welfare of others before himself and he carries his robot foe over and out into the bay.

Together they plunge into the water, and fight rages beneath the river, the robot shows no signs of being troubled by the sudden immersion. Superman however notes the tell tale bubbles of air, albeit tiny, emerge from the cracked frame of Metalo's torso.

The water churns as they wrestle, tall waves crash onto the docks, boats, even ships dip angrily in the tumult. Still the colossal battle rages, but Superman knows he can not last much longer, the nausea of Kyrptonite exposure growing ever greater, almost too much, Superman feels as if he might black out at any moment, then as all appears lost, Metalo breaks free of him and leaps sky ward, bursting out of the water. Superman is relieved, hoping the fight was too much for the damaged robot also.

Superman sinks to the floor of bay, but he is not defeated. Far from it the cooling water refresh him and pushing upwards he charges after Metalo. Then as the Man of Steel exits the water, but the strange robot is ready for him. Metalo discharges a burst of energy, one that emerges from across his metallic skin; crackling electric sparks arcing along his metal form, leaping from the caped dark metal man, this strange lightening bolt hammers into Superman explosively.

Stunned the Man of Tomorrow sinks back into the water.

Lois Lane arrived after the fight. Her taxi dropping her at the docks, immediately the girl reporter gets to work seeking out information, interviewing eye witnesses establishing the basics of the battle as they could see it. Their various accounts all ending with Superman being at the centre of a strange explosion, with him vanishing in a burst of light just above the water. Then Metalo apparently victorious, was seen flying into the clouds, a dark blur streaking away, and disappearing from view.

It made for a sorry tale. In due course she recognised Kent among the chaos.

"Clark whatever happened to you?"

Kent winced, as she reached out and touched him, his face was terribly bruised. His hair damp Lois asked. "You look like you've been in a fight."

"Er you could say that. I er got caught up in the chaos.

"Y' know people were real scared Lois, they ran, stampeded even, I'm not the only person who got roughed up today, people were running, trampling each other to get clear of the fight."

"You didn't see what happened to Superman?"

"I believe he was knocked back under the water; but I wouldn't worry Lois I'm sure he'll be back."

"I hope so Clark."

Kent suddenly broke away from the conversation. He too spotted the face he had been looking for. "Mr Grant?"

"The older man stopped and turned.

"Mr George Grant?" Clark asked.

"Yes. Do I know you sir?"

"Clark Kent, Daily Star, I came here to cover the meteor story, and I ran into all this, but first I came to err interview you about your discovery." The two men shook hands, Clark introduced Lois.

Then to Kent he said. "Yes, well that's good of you I'm sure, covering my discovery; but I too also, of course ran into this... battle." Grant hung onto a heavy metal case. He was a powerful looking distinguished man older man, his grey suit matched his hat, with matched his hair, there something of an adventurer about him, perhaps it was the air of confidence he possessed.

"Sir, I fear all this is linked directly to you."

"Really? I find that very hard to believe, as hard, I admit, as believing in the Superman of Metropolis, until that is I saw him with my own eyes; as for that strange robot... these are strange times to be alive."

Clark pressed home his point. "I have good reason to believe the err... robot, this Metalo, came to meet you here today."

"Why?"

"The meteor. Sir, you have been away in South America, I however have been following a series of strange crimes across North America, this Metalo is going after, stealing meteors that fell from the Barnett Winston Comet."

"You have proof?"

"I can show you all the reports I have collected, back at the office, if you'd care to follow Miss Lane and I to the Daily Star."

"Very well, I am interested – obviously, to see these reports, please give me a moment, I must speak with my wife."

As Grant left them. Lois looked a Clark. "So this _was_ a scoop all along?" Lois laughed. "And to think I let you run out on me."

"A hunch. This Metalo creature just proved my hunch to be right by going after Grant's meteor rock sample."

Lois nodded. "Okay Clark, you played your hunch, and you were right to do that; but we'll still pool our interviews and share this by-line." She said with a smile.

Back at the Star Building the two reporters introduced Grant to Taylor, and Clark spelled out how it can only have been Metalo behind all the 'bad' Superman events, and how on each occasion the strange robot had been stealing meteor rocks.

The Chief puffed on a cigarette, pointing at Kent. "Then the first 'Superman' crime, the mail train robbery, the reason nothing of value was taken, was because this Metalo only valued a hunk of space rock."

Clark nodded. "There was also the raid on the Smithsonian, again a meteor rock was taken by a caped 'man'. There are other similar reports from a dozen States."

"I knew Superman wasn't a criminal." Lois said.

Taylor looked across at Grant. "You're a scientist. What manner of creature do you believe this Metalo to be?"

The grey haired adventurer, considered the question. "Well I can only speculate. It had the appearance of a robot; but we are years away from creating anything like it – here on Earth that is."

"You think Metalo might be from another planet?" Lois asked.

"It is the most likely explanation. I know that sounds like science fiction, but the universe is a huge place, it would be ridiculous to think that there isn't life out there.

"If there is intelligent life, then the intelligent thing to do would to use machines, not people, and I use the term people loosely you understand, aliens would hardly look like people, that would be silly; but as I was saying, machines would be better equipped for embarking on the long lonely and dangerous journeys across the vast distances of space. Machines wouldn't need to worry about the different environments they might find on different worlds.

"So yes Miss Lane, it's logical to conclude that Metalo must be a super-robot, a strange visitor from another world."

"Why the obsession with the meteor rocks?" Taylor wondered.

"Well I have determined that the meteor I found does have some very strange properties.

"However the comet itself, truthfully was not really a comet as Astronomers would normally define a comet, it was not rock and ice, it's self luminescence was particularly strange, and other aspects of its orbit, speed and so on, all raised questions.

"I know that isn't an explanation. Yet Metalo's fascination with these alien materials only confirms my conclusions; that these meteorites are very unusual; but as is often the case with science, our discoveries pose more questions than answers."

"I assume that heavy case you have with you contains the meteorite you found?" Clark asked.

"Why yes, given what you said about Metalo, I decided to keep this with me." Grant explained. He then added. "But I do see what you are getting at Kent.

"You're saying my discovery makes me a target."

"And everyone who is around you is in danger, by virtue of simply being in the way." Clark replied.

"May I make a Suggestion Mr Grant." Taylor said. "I have contacts in the military, if this is an alien threat, and I agree it may well be, then perhaps given that even Superman has had difficulty going to toe to toe with this robot, that really only US Army has the err... muscle to protect your discovery."

Grant looked troubled, he clearly gave the suggestion serious thought. "I'm reluctant to go down that road, but after what I've seen today I must agree, the best security measures Met U has to offer aren't going to be enough.

"Very well, whom should I speak to?"

Taylor glanced at Lois. She knew what was coming. "I put a call through Pegasus Field." He told Grant. "Meantime." He said to Lane and Kent. "You two get this story filed for the late edition."

-'S'-

Kate Winston tucked her two young sons into their beds and kissed them goodnight. She went downstairs, and poured herself a generous measure of brandy, before braving the night air, she stared at the star filled night sky, her Astronomer's eye identify the constellations. Romantically she could imagine superimposed over the patterns made by these distant suns the outlines of the mythological heroes who gave them their names, while at the same time appreciating the cosmos scientifically, pondering the incredible vastness of space and the many unknowns it represented.

She missed her husband, and with the distant stars above her she felt closer to the missing scientist.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts, and answering it Kate found herself explaining, or more accurately not being able to explain the reasons for her husband's absence. The caller was asking about a package, a package Professor Barnett Winston should have received weeks ago.

As she finished her drink. Something about the dates the caller had mentioned, got her thinking. She returned to the phone in the front hall.

"Hello is that Mr Kent?" She asked. At the other end of line Clark responded with an affirmative.

"Sorry to call after hours, but when we last spoke, you asked me to telephone you, if I thought of anything, however small, and I fear this is small, but Barney was due to receive a sample of a Meteor that was very similar to the one that went missing from the Observatory.

"The thing is Mr Kent, that the day the parcel was due to arrive at Met U, was the day errm 'Superman' or whoever that was, raided the mail train, I mean it might be coincidence...

"Oh you don't thinks so.

"Just wait a second Mr Kent." Kate covered the mouthpiece. "Billy, Johnny? Are you downstairs?" She looked into the shadows of the other room.

"Mr Kent, you won't believe this, but I think Superman is standing in my dining room, and he seems hurt."

-'S'-

Colonel Samuel Lane looked at Superman. "Can you explain to me why this Metalo character has the same crest on his chest as you?"

"I don't know. At best I can speculate. For some reason he has copied some elements of my costume, the cape, the outline of my shield, if not it's colours."

Lane lent on the veranda rail of his home on the USAAC barracks outskirts of Metropolis. Superman hung in the air just beyond, barely a couple of feet off the ground, making their eyes level, and yet the Man of Steel silently made a point about where each of them stood.

"Again Superman we had no way of contacting you, until both you and Metalo were seen fighting each other, as far as half of Metropolis was concerned you had gone over to the side of the devil."

"I have given your request a lot of thought.

"Place a phone on the top of the Daily Star Building, rig up a loud speaker to broadcast when it rings on a ultra high frequency." Superman passed the Colonel a piece of paper.

"I've made notes to that effect, your science people should be able to make sense of it."

"So, ultra high frequency would mean normal people wouldn't hear this phone ringing. Only you."

"That's right, this way the only people that know you are calling, is you and me."

"You know I even contemplated rigging up a search light or something." Lane confessed.

"That would have been silly I think." Superman replied. "Hardly subtle."

Lane nodded. "Well then what do you suggest we do about Metalo?"

"I'm guessing you are planning to bait a trap, say using Grant's Meteorite. Placed in the middle of open country, put some distance between people and whatever happens." Superman observed, he could see the plans to that effect had been drawn up in Lanes office.

"Yes something like that." The Colonel admitted with a frown. "We were thinking of using the Live Fire Practise Range over in Addison County.

"We can use some heavy artillery, and if necessary I can send in the bombers in."

"Yes I thought something like that would be the obvious military solution."

"You have another suggestion?"

"Let me take him down, if I fail, then unleash the dogs of war." Superman replied.

The Colonel frowned. "Problem being, what makes you think you can do this? You didn't take Metalo down in Metropolis, in fact he clearly got the better of you."

Superman replied plainly. "And what makes you think you can do any better?

"Colonel the reality is, let's say Metalo takes the bait – and I think he will, then what?

"The meteorite and Metalo vanish in less time than it takes your gunners to blink. Basically without my help Metalo will be in and out before you can fire a single round or drop a single bomb."

Lane nodded. "Yes, to be honest we realised that, which is why I'm glad you're here."

Superman nodded, and moved on, asking. "Do you have what I requested?"

"The radiation suit? Yes I have it right here."

"Thank you."

"To be honest, we're confused as to why you need it?"

"When I was fighting Metalo in Metropolis I discovered he was radioactive. This radiation sapped my strength, this put me at an increasing disadvantage."

Lane was surprised. Superman continued. "I'm just being careful Colonel, you know Scouts Motto, be prepared."

"Radiation coming from the Robot. Interesting." The soldier observed. "Do you think this suit will protect your from it – give you your edge back?"

"That's the idea."

"However this suit here, it's a science guy suit, it isn't designed for combat, especially not on your scale."

"I have an idea about how to get around that." Superman replied somewhat cryptically.

The Man of Steel then said. "However there is another complication I should tell you about. Metalo has kidnapped Barnett Winston's wife."

"What? Why?"

"Clark Kent at the Star received a telephone call, during which Mrs Winston told him she had a unexpected visitor, a visitor she thought to be Superman."

"But that wasn't you."

"No; and by the time I got there, and believe me when I say I didn't hang around, she was gone."

"First Winston, then his wife. What is Metalo's obsession with this space rock?"

"Why he needs the Winston's I don't know. As for the Meteorites? He clearly values them highly.

"As do we. Grant was right, it's a damn peculiar material, so my people tell me."

Superman frowned. "You understand my priority is securing the release of the Winston's."

"But you will do everything in your power to apprehend Metalo? The United States needs to know what he is and where he hails from."

"Justice must be served." Superman replied.

"Very good Superman. I'll get the technicians working on this telephone hotline concept. The suit you asked for is in this box." Lane pointed to his left. Superman collected the package. Lane paused and leant forward saying.

"But Superman you realise that if this suit doesn't work the way you hope, and my observers decide Metalo is getting the upper hand, they will have standing orders to strike. If that happens then you will be in the middle of all that ordinance, shelling, bombs – the works."

"Yes Sir, I understand. That is a logical approach, however I don't see any other way to do this, I'm the only one able to slow this Metal Man down."

Lane nodded, he couldn't help be impressed by the Man of Tomorrow's confidence. "Very well Superman." He held out his hand. Superman shook it.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning. Eight hundred hours."

"Indeed. Thanks for this suit. Goodnight Colonel." With those words Superman disappeared into the night.

Crossing the Metropolis the Man of Tomorrow hurtled towards his Secret Citadel high in the Mountains to the West of the city.

Before visiting Pegasus field Superman had earlier purchased heavy steel plate. This he had stacked inside his Citadel. Taking this steel in hand, Superman began forming, heating, and shaping it, using his tremendous strength coupled with his heat vision to form the hot metal to the shape of his body. Cutting and welding where necessary until he had made around his mighty form a fully fitting suit of armour. He forged a helmet to protect the suits cowl, and attached these together making a single head piece. Superman fashioned catches to secure this to the shoulders of the armour.

Lastly using his heat vision he carved the 'S' gylph onto the chest plate.

With the remaining steel he forged a heavy hammer, after the likeness of the one his Pa had used to drive fence posts into the ground back on the farm, only this hammer was far more massive, the metal shaft was thick enough for him to take a comfortable double handed grip, and the huge hammer head was as large as the shaft could realistically carry.

As dawn broke, the Man of Steel had completed his preparations; removing his cloak he dressed himself in the radiation suit, then to protect the lead impregnated material he layered on top this the heavy steel plate, welding it in place, the radiation suit was exposed in the joints, but that was unavoidable.

Fingerless Steel gauntlets covered his knuckles leaving his fingers free to handle the big hammer. Finally he attached his red cape, and donned the helmet. In due course Superman left his mountain retreat and flew hammer in hand in the direction of Pegasus field.

When he landed beside the flag pole directly outside the Colonel's offices his appearance caused consternation. Superman however rested his mighty hammer on the lawn, where it promptly sank into the ground a few inches, and by releasing the positive catches that held the helmet in place he casually removed it revealing his face.

Colonel Lane recognised the distinctive dark kiss curl on the Man of Tomorrow's forehead. "Stand down men that's not Metalo, it's Superman." He shouted out.

Approaching him Lane said. "I was expecting the radiation suit perhaps, but this, well this is something else. Do you think that this steel armour will withstand Metalo?"

"Certainly better than the fabric of the radiation suit alone." Superman explained.

"The hammer, what's is that about? Heck that thing must weigh more than truck."

"I'm planning to keep the robot at arms length - think of this as kind of like a tin opener."

Lane smiled. "In the Army we have a term for a heavy hammer, we call it a precision tuning implement."

The Man of Steel smiled. Then he asked. "The Meteorite where is it now?"

"We've already placed it out in the field, mind you it's still inside its container." Lane gestured for Superman follow him into his office.

He continued. "Basically the bait is out in the middle of our testing range. As far as we can tell the lead box is shielding whatever radiation is coming off of it."

"Good." Superman noted. "I think it must be the radiation that Metallo is able to detect, that's how he's homing in on the meteorites."

Lane nodded. "Yes, that was our working theory."

The Colonel directed him to a chart on a display. "Here is the map of our positions, we have artillery pieces set up around the range, targeting the centre where the meteor has been placed.

"And I'll put bombers in the air to cover the same area."

Superman noted these details. "I'll let your people know when I want their support."

"How?" Lane asked.

"Simple. I'll shout it out, real loud."

Unsurprisingly Lane looked incredulous when he heard this. Superman added with conviction. "Believe Colonel, they'll hear me, I can guarantee it."

Lane accepted him at his word. "Very well I'll pass that on, but remember there's the standing order to those positions, if you fail, all hell will break loose."

Superman nodded. "In five minutes radio your people to expose the meteorite to the atmosphere, and then have them get away from the area as fast as they can."

"Why five minutes?" Lane asked.

"Because that's how long it will take me to get there."

"Really – five minutes?" Lane laughed.

"If I flew faster the steel would get too hot."

"You can fly faster than that?"

Superman smiled, knowing he had rendered the Colonels assumptions mute. "Yes, it might be worth remembering when you need new alloys testing. You know I'm happy to help further scientific endeavour."

With that he left the building and took to the air.

Lane turned to his Lieutenant. "Signal the testing range, tell them Steel is en route."

Soon a jeep was speeding away from a remote spot in middle of a wild landscape. Leaving behind a small glowing rock sitting on the damp ground, while in the cold but bright winter sun, the crystalline Kryptonite began to shine ever brighter.

Delivering the confirmation that the trap had been set, the young Lieutenant chanced a question to his superior." Colonel, you don't trust Superman completely do you?"

Lane stared out at the Stars and Stripes fluttering in the breeze. "No; but that's my job son - not to trust anyone completely, to ask those kind of questions.

"But be honest I don't like the fact the Metalo is so like Superman, down to the uniform even, the cape - the shield. What is that shield emblem supposed to mean any way, is that really an 'S' for Superman? It could be an 'S' or it could be some yellow fishes on a red background for all I know.

"What I do know is this, it was my daughter that came up with the handle Superman, and whatever that symbol stands I doubt it's American."

Superman arrived at the edge of the isolated testing range. His steel suit steamed with the heat of high speed flight. He stood resting his hands on the shaft of his upturned hammer and he waited, and he waited, as time past.

Above him the Sun reached it's Zenith, and morning gave way to afternoon. All the Man of Steel could do was watch and wait. At the edge of the weapons testing field, soldiers waited too, hunkered down beside the heavy guns, ready for the signal to begin pounding a few feet of earth with heavy explosive shells.

Metallo's arrival, when it came, was as Superman predicted all very sudden, the comparison was stark, time waited by all – hours; the time Superman had to deliver the first all important blow was measured in milliseconds.

Superman leapt into action. All his speed all his strength, all the leverage he could muster he brought to bear, as he hammered into Metalo, hard, striking his dark doppelgänger squarely on the chest. Directly aiming at the previous damage.

Perhaps it was obsession that distracted Metalo. His desire to possess the crystalline meteorite, perhaps Superman was just too quick for him. Either way the Man of Steel made good his advantage. Superman's first strike was as decisive as the Man of Tomorrow had hoped and planned.

The Metal Man hurtled backwards, tumbling and struggling to regain control. Superman watched his enemy fall and reflected that Metalo's torso was not like any metal he had ever worked with or against.

The dark blue, purpled cloaked doppelgänger recovered, and Metalo charged back at Superman. The Man of Steel did not meet him head on instead he flew backwards and upwards, his steel shell glowing red as air friction heated the armour. Metallo followed chasing him.

Superman then abruptly charged at Man of Metal smashing at the robot once more with his heavy hammer. Metalo managed counter strike, a glancing blow, bit one enough to distort the steel chest plate of Superman's armour, but beneath this the lead impregnated radiation suit held as did Superman's strength.

Together they briefly wrestled tumbling down to the ground. Superman's metal armour deformed when Metalo's blows hit home. The Man of Steel concentrated on pushing himself clear, putting distance between the radiative Metalo and him.

Once again Superman's massive hammer again found it's mark, crunching hard against Metalo, now the metallic shell of the robot man was splintering. It was if the robot was made of rock, even toughed glass, his torso was riven by a multitude of tiny cracks, cracks that Superman's hammer opened up.

Metalo seemed suddenly concious of the danger, he struggled to take hold of the hammer, and together they now wrestled for the possession of it.

Superman suddenly let go of the shaft, a simple trick, but it worked. Metalo rocketed backwards, too close to the earth he seemed unable to arrest his fall, and his dark doppelgänger hit the ground with tremendous force. Dirt and rock erupted high into the air. Below Metalo lay motionless in the bottom of the impact crater.

Superman hurtled down towards the fallen robot, smashing into him with his steel gauntlets, the cracked alien metal shattering under the blur of Superman's punches. The torso of the Metalo shattered like an egg shell, like crystal glass, and it was then Superman realised what this strange material truly was.

It was living metal, K-Metal, and beneath it there was a thin dark grey layer, strangely not unlike the skin found under an eggshell. It was fragile, and familiar.

The Man of Tomorrow's gauntlets were broken, and the radiation suits gloves torn away by violence, but Superman was victorious, he had cracked open Metalo, and now as he paused to consider what he had discovered, his anger abated.

Superman ripped off his helmet, and freed from the lead impregnated glass of the radiation suits cowl Superman's 'x-ray vision confirmed his suspicions. This thin layer, this grey skin was really just material, lead impregnated material.

Superman was looking at a radiation suit; but one which had become encased in living metal, K-Metal.

Using his bear hands, Superman tore at the broken outer shell, peeling away the glass like shards, understanding that he must break apart the strange mutant K-Metal shell.

Ripping at the shattered and sharp glass like material, Superman persevered ignoring the burning pain in his hands.

Finally the he broke away enough K-Metal to release the stunned and shocked man. Superman lifted him freeing him from within the living metal suit.

As the dust began clear Superman burst out into the sky, he flew away from the radiations of the K-metal below, from the mutated material that had entrapped and poisoned the man he now cradled, the bruised and broken Professor Barnett Winston

Covering the Professor's ears Superman bellowed "Now!"

His voice carried across to the where the US Army waited. On his word, the batteries opened up and the artillery barrage began, the shells were aimed at the dust cloud, the crater where the empty husk of the living metal that had been Metalo lay.

Colonel Lane let loose the bombers, and tons of explosive churned up the earth burying the K-Metal beneath the debris. Burying the mutated living metal from Krypton.


	40. Chapter 40

"You can speak with him now Mr Kent." The Doctor gestured towards the bed where Barnett Winston lay, before placing himself between Clark and his friend. "The Professor is badly injured. Yet he is currently refusing further treatment - that is until he speaks with you."

Clark nodded. The Doctor raised his hand. "Mr Kent, if it were not for Barnett Winston's determination to do this,... Well erm, let me say to you that this is not an interview opportunity. So let's keep this short son, and remember your friend has several broken ribs, fractures to his arms and legs. Do you follow what I'm saying to you?"

"Yes sir, I think so."

"Good, perhaps after he has spoken with you he'll calm down and let me treat him."

Clark approached the injured scientist. The older man winced as he raised an hand to greet the reporter.

"Where is Superman?" He demanded.

Kent sat down. "Superman has left the building. Can I help?"

"My wife." Winston gasped, his broken ribs made conversation painful. "She is down there, he has to get her back."

"Down where Professor?"

"I don't know... I can't remember... It's all so confusing. She's there Kent. In the deep... Dark, deep, a cold cavern... with the boys Kent, with my boys... You have to get word to Superman, he can save them. I know he can..."

"Just relax." Kent replied softly. "Speak quietly, don't worry about whispering. Just relax, that's right, I can hear you, whisper as quietly as you like."

The Professor gasped a almost silent "yes."

"That's great Barnett. Look at me now, look directly into my eyes, and just tell me what you do remember."

Superman flew over the city and out across the Metro Hills. His mind recalled the rambling words of the Professor. Kent had spoken softly, patiently, encouraging a hypnotic state. As Barnett Winston lay mesmerised, the Professor had drifted through a waking dream, recounting a jumbled story of his experiences trapped within the K-Metal suit, the robot Metalo. An account that had piece by disjointed piece begun to make sense. Superman''s flight path was preplanned by the jigsaw narration of the mesmerised man, and this description took the Man of Tomorrow to the crater into which the Ultra Humanite's grand house had tumbled.

Superman paused to reflect on this coincidence, what he wondered was the significance, if any of this, was there something special about the Metro Hills?

Scanning the ground Superman's extraordinary vision penetrated the rubble and rock allowing him to search the large chamber deep beneath the surface, hollowed out by the exploding Hyperion reactor.

Metalo had bored a passage from the surface into the vault deep below. According to the Professors recollections, the distinct Metalo personality had placed the things he valued here. Bringing to the vast artificial cave Barnett's wife, and his sons; and the Kryptonite meteors.

Superman flew down into the Earth, diving through the tunnel's entrance, darting into the darkness.

The blackness was no barrier to him. His senses tuned forward for any sign of life, searching for Mrs Barnett and her sons; ever mindful they might be in the self same place as the dreadful K-Metal.

Green Kryptonite was a substance that could incapacitate him, even kill him; but what choice did the Ace of Action have. Superman had to save Barnett Winston's family. His concern was not for himself, but for a mother of two little boys, cold, hungry and alone.

The initial search proved fruitless and hovering above the floor of the chamber Superman was able to see the lingering afterglow of Kryptonite. He could feel it, taste it, lingering in the stale air of the cavern. Winston's account was accurate in this much, but the cache Barnett had described was no longer piled on the rock floor. All that remained were tiny shards of material, nothing more than dust littering the rock, proving the Metalo's collection of meteors had been spirited away.

Superman considered these things as his eyes scanned his surroundings more closely. With characteristic speed he moved across the chamber.

A rocky outcrop hid a crevice, a tiny cave within the rocky hall. He could smell perfume, traces of makeup. A woman had been here, laid down here, smeared her tear stained faced against the unyielding stone.

Superman wondered, where is the Professor's wife and children now - and where are the meteor rocks Metalo had stored here?

He was troubled; the Kryptonite had be stolen away, by someone or something, perhaps he conceded even Metalo.

Superman decided to proceed with his search on the basis that Kate Winston and her boys had been probably carried away at the same time.

Mindfully keeping the Kryptonite residue at a distance, Superman suspected the answer was staring him in the face; however this was a solution that only created new questions.

In the rock wall across from him, a newly carved tunnel had bee driven _into_ the vast cavern. The debris around it's mouth confirmed that. The Man of Tomorrow could make out foot prints, dusty imprints criss-crossing the cave floor, leading away from where Metallo had stacked the Kryptonite, and back into the newly created shaft.

The tunnel ran downward, plunging deeper still underground. There was only one course of action, the Man of Steel knew it. Superman dived on, flying further into the Earth.

-'S'-

Hepheastus lay sprawled across the finest of marble floors, his eyes stared upwards into infinity, the expanse of the vault of Olympus. The Crippled god recognised the vast and gloriously appointed chamber, this was the Great Court of Hera, goddess and queen of Olympus. This was the city of the gods hidden in the heavens, far above the Earth.

"Here!" A woman's voice called to him, and then followed the rattling noise of wood against stone.

Grasping the twisted and knotted cane she had thrown to him, Hepheastus looked up at the radiant beauty he had once known so well.

The lame god however snarled a profanity as he drew himself upright, his armour scraping against the polished stone. Leaning heavily on the short staff he said. "Thank you Aphrodite, finally you remember your place."

"Former Husband, I have never forgotten my place, or your wrath, or your failure.

"You are not yourself however."

"Give me a moment. You clearly have forgotten I have been away from the heady pulse of Olympian energies for many years."

"I have not forgotten your banishment."

"Bless you wife for remembering me, I see you kept my cane also – be careful Aphrodite, lest I begin to believe you actually have a heart." Before the goddess Hephaestus shimmered, his strange alien shape shifting and changing. "Perhaps this visage will please you better?"

Hephaestus leant on his gnarled stick, as his thin insect like form filled outwards, a long beard fell from his chin, his arms rippled, dark bronze metallic flesh, his body wrapped in a singed heavy leather smock, beneath his backward facing feet remained.

"I see Hera still has her throne." He laughed, pointing to the golden chair atop a diadem at the rooms centre.

"To learn from a mistake." The voice of wisdom came from the opposite side of the Chamber. "Do not try to fool others or yourself."

"Athena, you also?" Hephaestus acknowledged the goddess of Wisdom. "I would have thought Hera would have thrown my gift in the deep sea."

"And deprive herself of a thing of beauty?" Another goddess spoke. The implication was clear. He – Hephaestus, was cast down by Hera, a thing of ugliness; trash to be thrown away, the throne despite being rich in dark enchantments, was exceedingly beautiful and that remained.

Hephaestus turned again to face her. "Hestia!" He laughed coldly. "You are as ever the goddess of Hearth and Home." His voice dripped in sarcasm. " Giving a warm generous welcome to this old cripple."

A new voice spoke. "Indeed welcome home our crippled god."

Hephaestus turned once again searching the shadows, seeking out the speaker, and he watched as two goddesses appeared, taking form; from unsubstantial mist into visions of classical perfection.

"Demeter." He called out to her – demanding. "Why am I here? As goddess of the seasons – perhaps you can explain?" Hepheastus suggested. "What special time demands my recall?

"And I see you also in the shadows, lurking - Artemis, the Huntress, undoubtedly your eyes alone sort me out, even in the depths of Hades, truly only your eyes could find me there; and Cronus's daughters, who else could persuade a Titan to act on their behalf?"

Silence met his words, but his accusations were not denied. The crippled god recognised this and spat back again. "What plan have you hatched, what need does this divine coven wish met?"

Not waiting for an answer in anger Hephaestus smacked his stick to the ground. "Our power is spent, the coffers are empty; the age of miraculous Olympian wonder waned, there is nothing new I can forge here! Release me back to Earth, for there mankind now invents and creates miracles of science and technology, there I can engineer new solutions, here I can only languish and bask in the light of our former glory.

"Hera's banishment was not the punishment she intended. No ladies of Olympus, it was a blessing in disguise, I embraced your rejection, I embraced mankind's industry and spirit of invention. Olympus has nothing I want, you have nothing to give."

Demeter extended her hand and gestured to him to listen "You are right and yet so wrong Hepheastus.

"Yes Artemis hunted you down. Yes my sister Hestia, and I prevailed upon our father to return you to Olympus from the Elysian realm."

"That I had no doubt. Did not Cronus cast me here himself."

Artemis approached him. "You are a cunning creature Lord Hephaestus. Your mechanisms are infamous, Hera would not entertain the though of having you here in the courts of Olympus once more - if it were not necessary."

The Smith was unimpressed. "Hera be damned. Where is our Lady? Not here to greet me I see, and yet... "

"Do not presume that the Queen of Olympus would grant _you_ an audience!" Athena interrupted him with cool authority. "Hera remembers how this golden throne held her fast, imprisoned in her own audience chamber."

"And I remember the price you demanded to release her." Aphrodite stated bitterly.

Hephaestus drove his stick to the stone once more, enraged all the more. "And I remember how you honoured our marriage!

"Taking to our bed Ares – betraying our union – your solemn promise!"

Aphrodite nodded unabashed. "Avenge yourself." She told him. "Ares is the enemy."

Hephaestus suddenly laughed at his former wife. "Foolish women. What do you think I have been doing? Amusing myself with the petty lives of mortals?

"But what would any of you truly know, living here isolated from the worlds that lay beyond Olympus's realm. How can any of you have any idea of what is happening today on the Earth."

"No." Athena stated. "We know more than you realise. And this is where you are wrong.

"Ares is at work among men once more. Not satisfied with the slaughter of men they called the Great War, he begins a fight that will unleash forces that will kill all - not only the armies of men, but destroy the Earth herself. A war that is just beginning."

Aphrodite reached out to him. "That is why we have come to ask you to dig deep, to find the old magic once more, and forge tools for our agents."

Hephaestus laughed. "Your agents? You jest – the Amazons are as isolated and as other worldly as their gods, the daughters of Themyscira as a impotent as Olympus in the coming age."

"They are our agents. Agents of peace."

"Hah! You still cling to that idea!" He laughed. "After what Hercules and his army did to them, and the blood letting that followed?" Then seeing the goddesses obvious displeasure he coldly stated. "Truly you cannot believe that in this age of war, that your lonely Amazons can do anything to avert the coming disaster, the coming death?"

"Yes." The goddesses spoke in unison.

Hephaestus shook his head. "There is nothing I can do – nothing any of us can do." The crippled god grumbled, he sighed, he was weary, his anger was now spent and in it's place tiredness and a measure of pity, pity for them all.

He looked at the assembled goddesses and declared. "The old magic is gone, the time of the gods has waned.

"I can forge nothing new here in Olympus, perhaps on Earth, perhaps there I _could_ have fashioned something, but I have no suitable workshop in the Earth – at least not any more.

"Accept your fate, and I shall mine."

Athena nodded, she did not deny his claims. "This we understand all too well Lord of the Forge, but _we_ have not given up hope."

Hestia explained. "I have spent my life energies, I have reopened your workshop deep in the hot heart of Olympus's mountain, and even now the flames roar in anticipation of your return."

"For what purpose?" The Blacksmith god demanded.

"Former Husband." Aphrodite gestured to the mountains heart. "We have all made sacrifices, each of us given of ourselves. Now we need your unique skill. Waiting for you there lies Gaia's girdle, Apollo's Discus and the fragmented Aegis Shield of Zeus himself."

"With these things." Artemis affirmed. "With these ancient treasures – with our combined life energy, you must be able to create objects of power for our Amazon emissaries."

Hephaestus was stunned. After a long silence, he said. "Perhaps, if I dig deep, I can create something from each of these – but to what end?"

Aphrodite leant close. "Why? Surely you know, the only end that matters to us, that matters to you - to frustrate Ares. To see him fall and fail."

Hephaestus first smiled, "Very well." He said, then the crippled god chuckled adding. "Why didn't you say you wished to frustate Ares? Women!"

Then as the manic zeal of a man wronged took over him he began to roar with laughter, inflating in size as he bellowed, until he was a giant his flesh glowing like molten metal. "Aye Ladies, that is a cause a god can put his heart and mind into. Damn Ares for eternity!"

"You agree then?" Athena asked plainly.

"What say you?" Aphrodite looked at him for a reply.

"Yes Athena - you have given me enough reason to labour on your behalf; and yes Aphrodite to frustrate Ares, even after so many centuries my hate is more than sufficient incentive, so yes women of Olympus you have won my cooperation.

"Come ladies to the fires that burn in the heart of Olympus! In the heat of my vengeance I will forge for you tools to bring peace, and avert catastrophe. "

-'S'-

The passage way was long and direct. Clearly it was artificial. Superman was unable to recognise how it had been made. His microscopic vision could detect no sign of a mechanical excavation. He could smell however a lingering chemical residue on the rock wall.

The Man of Tomorrow flew on emerging into a vast natural cavern deep underneath the surface of the Earth, and it was a revelation.

His senses quickly scanned the huge cave. Superman had not been idle since his encounter with the incredible creatures in the caves on the Eastern Seaboard, the battle that had forced him to side with the Ultra Humanite against a common foe. He had studied the legends of the indigenous peoples of America, he knew of the subterranean paradise of Shamballa of the Buddhist tradition, and revisited the Greek myths of the realm of Hades. One thing had struck him, these were not like Ma Kent's heaven or hell, these were places, points in space and time, these places had a geography, these were described as being subterranean worlds were under the Earth.

Even so no retelling of these myths and legends could prepare the Ace of Action for the fabulous sight. Light did not come from the sun. Lights did shine however from what appeared to be great flowers, almost tree sized, these great daffodil like structures glowed individually, and collectively their soft light washed across the cavern.

They were colourful, blues, reds and purples, other shorter plant-like life similarly coloured lay beneath them. They were nothing like the verdant greens of the surface. Superman's cursory examination of there structure suggested these organisms were not truly plants, but neither were they animals – but some strange unclassified convergence of the two. Insects attracted by the light could be seen congregating around the glowing flower like heads. Clearly serving a similar function to surface flowers who attracted pollinators by colour these strange trees used light in what would otherwise be darkness. At this depth the temperature was balmy even pleasant, and of course consistent. Water flowed from subterranean aquifers. In short the cavern system many miles below the surface thrived as a self contained ecosystem independent of the sun and the surface.

The Man of Tomorrow's natural curiosity was balanced by his determination to locate Kate Barnett and her boys, constrained by caverns limitations he flew over the strange landscape searching for any sign of human life. Following the evidence of the footfalls along a path leading from the tunnel entrance and into the peculiar floral forest.

Superman alighted to the floor of the cave, debris over many years had formed a soil, which in turn grew moss like plants and fungus, here the tell tale imprints of many feet had been made in the softer material. The Man of Steel had hoped to see some the shape and size which would indicate the children, but there were many such prints, too many it seemed for two boys to make - and oddly these seemed to be barefooted; however none of them seemed appropriate for an adult women.

Superman's incredible vision also determined that presence of Kryptonite residues. Clearly he could only follow the trail deeper into the hidden landscape, although he had found no sign of the Winston's the Man of Tomorrow knew this remained his only lead in his search for the Professor's family. Taking flight Superman followed the path deeper into the alien subterranean world.

-'S'-

Beneath the ancient Engine of the Heavens, it's mechanism progressing with mechanical certainty, the Seer Menalippe meditated alone.

The Oracle of Amazons waited before the mirror like surface of the mercurial scrying pool. The blonde mistress of the mysteries studied the individual threads of fate, each a possible future waiting to be woven into the fabric of time and space.

It was her calling, to see and understand when history was being made, when the future was taking form. The Oracle of the Amazons knew it. She could sense it – see it. Today was one of those days.

She waited for a moment of clarity, an event, a knot that might tie together disparate probabilities creating a new path, a new pattern, a new design in the weave, revealing a possible future.

In due course a picture formed in the waters.

Alone Menalippe trembles, before her a vision of the future unfolds, a brutal tomorrow soon to come. In her vision she can hear the screams, the sirens.

Birmingham, England, Industrial heartland of the Midlands, city of a thousand trades; target.

To Menalippe this vision is a glimpse of Hades. Dark satanic mills, black smoke, pierced by flame - Menalippe sees it. She hears the cries of men, women and children and listens to the howl of the winged demons of the Luftwaffe.

Menalippe shudders and recoils. Something else has drawn her to this city. As terrible as this future will be - something else matters very much - something that is coming to pass.

Her astral eyes return from the near future to the present day, something of great importance is happening in this industrial town, in the strange red brick buildings of the city's University.

She sees in her mercurial pool two men locked into a serious conversation, pouring over papers covered in scribbled symbols. Blackboards white with chalk and equations. Menalippe can hear their voices, she can taste the intensity of this moment. Voices are raised, words spoken in awe, excitement and fear colouring the moment. Men's voices speaking strange words.

Two brilliant fugitives from a war torn Europe; Otto Frisch and Rudolf Peierls, one common conclusion.

"It is clear that the consensus is wrong my friend, rather than requiring the many tons of rare uranium, in fact, to create fission, an atomic bomb would require only _one pound_ of isotope 235."

"This is serious. It is terrible, and incredible; before a deliverable bomb was at best impractical... Now... It is inevitable; a plane could carry such a bomb."

"Yes... and the Nazi machine will stop at nothing to possess this. And the whole world will burn and fall."

Menalippe struggled to understand the intensity of this moment in the eddies and currents of time and space was undeniable, slipping forward she gagged as the images of war poured forth from the tapestry of time, each probability weaving into patterns of greater brutality, until the signature cloud, the towering mushroom of destruction rose above man's world, time and time again, the burning light, the roar of thunder, the incineration of life, city after city reduced to ash - deserts of death, until nothing remained but a scorched Earth. This was the future.

Menalippe screamed, her nostrils filled with the acrid stench of death, her throat burned as she gasped, "this future must never come to pass."

The Chief of the Guard Philippus ran her foot soldiers at her heels, they sped towards the cry that echoed supernaturally from the mountain top Temple of the Oracle, these women ran to their sister, they ran to Menalippe, for their Oracle was screaming.

-'S'-

Superman's journeyinto the underworld continued. Any and every facet of this strange new world fascinated him. Incredibly these vast caves had remained hidden beneath the world undiscovered. The Man of Tomorrow searched diligently, flying deeper into the complex system of caves and caverns - looking for what had been lost.

The Man of Steel had to honour the promise Clark Kent had made to his friend Barnett Winston, the man who he had broken, the man K-Metal had almost destroyed.

Superman knew he wasn't to blame, the chain of events that had resulted in Krypton's destruction, the transformation of the material from his home-world, all this had by chance happened to him too. Still he felt the weight of responsibility, illogical as it maybe. Undeniably Kryptonite was both an immediate threat to him, and ultimately to the Earth, his home- his adopted world.

What was the reason for the abduction of Kate and the children? Superman wondered. Had they been carried deep into the subterranean world, and if so, by whose hand? Had Metalo done this, and if so could Barnett even hope to remember everything he had done while the K-Metal possessed him. Simply where were the Winstons and the Kryptonite?

Superman observed his surroundings. At first glance the interlinked caves and caverns seemed natural, and yet there was an order about the pattern which on reflection seemed too contrived.

Much was hidden under a carpet of life - the strange organisms of the underworld. This alien nature had both shaped it's surroundings and had been shaped by it. Natural Phosphorescence seemed common place, and Superman was reminded of the deep ocean where he had seen strange fish who had evolved similar traits in the dark cold waters. Here life seemed to be small in the most part, the nature of the caverns did not lend themselves to large animals or plants, only the light bearing trees had achieved any notable size. Superman considered these things when he first sighted the hominid ambling through the strange red-blue plants and light-trees.

Short and stocky, hairy almost all over, save for its very human looking face and not so human domed skull. The creatures velvet like black pelt reminded Superman of mole-skin. The Mole-man did not see the Metropolis Marvel's approach. How could he, speedily from above the Man of Tomorrow swooped down, his red cloak stretching outwards in the Shield shape of his Crest of the House of El.

The little man was terrified, and in his fear he was pinned to the spot, like a rabbit caught in headlights.

Superman reflected in the dim half light of the subterranean world his primary coloured suit appeared very different, here among the reds, purples and blue foliages his costume was almost camouflage, the colour of the shadows. He realised that he must appear as strange to the terrified subterranean dweller, as the mole-man did to him.

The scared hominid looked at the Man of Steel through large saucer like eyes, Superman was reminded of the noturnal Aye-Aye; childlike in proportions the quaking mole-man seemed to recover as Superman bent down on one knee and looked at the little person face to face. The Mole-man attempted to communicate.

His speech was high pitched, some of the sounds were beyond human hearing, but not super-hearing, that however did not mean much, without any frame of reference Superman could not understand the language.

He considered the dilemma. Clearly the small footprints he had seen along the path from the tunnel to here were explained, they belonged to these people. He had to assume they had taken the Barnetts and the Kryptonite. Why they might do this was a mystery – but he took solace in the mole-man's lack of aggression.

Gesturing with his hands Superman pointed upwards, and then back in the direction of the tunnel that led to the blast chamber and the surface.

The Mole-man evidently did not like this idea; at least Superman assumed the subterranean hominid had understood his meaning - that the Man of Steel had come to the subterranean world from above.

The little man became agitated, not so much afraid as before but angry, perhaps even offended, and with wide eyed glance backwards the Mole-man began to sprint away. Superman was impressed by the creatures speed and locomotion, more like a gymnast than a runner, the Mole-man moved in jumps, and sprints, using the uneven floor of the cavern as an advantage, even taking hold of the Light-trees to aid in throwing itself through the air, whatever came to hand or foot to propel himself forward.

Taking to the air Superman had no problem following the velvet haired creature as it sprang across the cavern, but capturing the Mole-man was not Ace of Action's intention, at least not yet. Superman watched as with deliberate aim the Mole-man disappeared down another tunnel, again this one was artificial in appearance, and Superman like a dart followed the little person into the blackness.

-'S'-

Philippus brought Menalippe to the Queens Court.

The Amazons met as a matter of urgency. Together the leading women of Paradise Island listened as their Oracle recounted her latest vision. Menalippe's face was pale, her eyes reddened with tears, her robes damp with sweat of exertion.

Queen Hippolyta sat on her throne perplexed, she was not alone, each one struggled to comprehend Menalippe words, as the Oracle in turn struggled to express the full nature of her visions.

The Queen broke the silence saying. "These men whom you saw among the Britans – they spoke of breaking, of dividing the átomos, literally cutting the 'uncuttable'?"

"Yes my Queen." Menalippe replied. "That is exactly what will be done. I have seen it, and the fire they will make,.. even Greek Fire is as nothing beside the flames to come."

Among the council a voice spoke a question. "The átomos - these are the smallest particles of matter. They are indivisible. How can something that cannot be divided - be divided?"

Menalippe spoke dispassionately. "What we have believed, what we have long held to be true has been changed."

This answer brought about much mutterings. The Amazon's General now pressed the Oracle. "Yet this new science of which you speak, it is a weapon of war?" Philippus questioned her. "Is this because of the new war that begins among men?"

The Oracle nodded. "A weapon so terrible that it will light a fire which will consume the world. A fire like no other.

"Like the Sun on the earth." Menalippe explained. Turning to Hippolyta she said. "I saw it in the letter they are yet to write, '_in which it will, for an instant, produce a temperature comparable to that in the interior of the sun.'_

"It is a fire that will consume cities entirely in a moment. A fire that will scorch the surface of the Earth." Then turning to the the General she asked.

"Is that a weapon of war Philippus, or is it an agent of genocide?"

"I am a soldier, a defender of this realm," The dark skinned warrior replied, adding. "This smacks of the god of battle, this will delight Ares – destruction and death. My purpose, the role of my warriors is the defence and preservation of life."

Hippolyta extended her hand dividing the two Amazons. "Indeed that is our common purpose; life. Sisters we must seek the council of Athena, only her Wisdom can guide us in this dark day. Let us retire to her Temple and in prayer and meditation consider these terrible things."

-'WW'-

Hepheastus bronze form was blackened by soot, his face wet with exhertion. The great forge of Olympus roared, filled with molten magma from the mountain of the gods. Before him a great anvil rested, upon the hammer and tongs of the god-smiths craft.

Below the great vaulted ceiling, in the vast chamber where giants might work, laying on a stone table were the broken and ancient artefacts of power. The remnants of Zeus's Aegis Shield, the broken discus of Apollo. To these Hestia added her belt, Gaia's girdle.

The blacksmith god stood and stared at this odd collection of godly things. In deep thought he reflected on what can be done, his furrowed brow lit in red light and cast in shadow by the fires of the forge.

"I have worked out what can be salvaged. Here is what I propose." He stated after much time had passed in contemplation.

Hepheastus struck his anvil and from it sparks flew upwards, he caught them and coming alive in hands Hepheastus drew fiery pictures in the air, making three images, of three items.

"This is all you propose to make?" Aphrodite asked. "Are we to sacrifice our life energies for only these three things?"

"I hoped for so much more. More for our Amazons." Hestia agreed as she drew the fiery images to her, to inspect them.

"I take no stock in your foolish schemes." The Crippled god replied. "but I do this thing out of hatred for Ares, and for no other reason, so rest assured my word is true, there is no profit in deceit – truly this is all that can be done today."

Seeing suspicion in the hearts and minds of the goddesses of Olympus, Hepheastus sighed angrily, but he explained further. "To try and make more items of power; to even try to turn one thing into two things would weaken the bonds of the old magic and the power would be loosed from the metals, and once lost it is lost forever."

Tunring to his fiery images the Blacksmith god continued saying. "From the Aegis Shield there is enough material for one pair of bracelets; I chose these because I know your Amazons place great importance upon their bracelets. From what remains of Apollo's discus I can forge the tiara you see in the fire before you, and it will function as the discus once did for Apollo. From Gaia's girdle I can make an unbreakable chain of many links, hammering into it the refining fire of truth.

"I can re-forge and repair, but I cannot break and divide the power, the three can only become three again."

Athena in her wisdom saw the truth in this. She nodded, saying. "Very well, we can only do what we can. Continue Master Hepheastus, re-forge us objects worthy of the gods."

The goddesses of Amazon's stood watching as their blacksmith worked. Upon his mark each goddess stepped forward to add her own magic to the mix of power and might.

As the hours past in the heat and smoke of the forge, the strange and ancient metals were reshaped, heated in the fires of Olympus and pounded by the Crippled gods great hammer into something else, just as he had described, before being plunged into water to rise completed in their new forms in a mist of steam.

In time the bronze and bearded Hepheastus was finished, he wiped his face and hands, saying. "It is done."

Athena looked down at Smiths completed work, and displayed for them on the stone table were the promised items; a tiara in golden metal, a pair of enchanted adamant bracelets, and a golden chain.

She turned to him. "These are made for only one to use, I see the script written in old power deep in the ether of their spirit."

"Yes. You are as wise as you are beautiful Lady Athena." Hepheastus noted dryly.

"Just one?" Demeter asked. "I thought these were for three!"

"Yes!" Aphrodite agreed, turning on her former husband. "Was it not meant to be three Amazon's in unison – what have you done Hepheastus?"

"Yes. Athena is right, these things are meant to be used by just one." Hepheastus replied coolly. "Ladies of Olympus, this was the best solution – and I confess it was not even mine."

"He speaks the truth." Hestia stated. "The Fire proves his works and his words."

The Crippled god said. "It was as I worked the metal imprinting the refining power of fire into each link, the old magic spoke to me once more. So it is like this - each golden link carries great power, but a united as a chain they realise even greater power."

"Like the Earth itself." Demeter observed. "A chain of interlinked life."

"Yes, and also the old power has forged an invisible link between these objects of magic, so when they are worn together, by a worthy champion their power is magnified." The Crippled god explained. I do not claim to have done this, it was these objects themselves that choose to become as one."

"Then the die has been cast, one Amazon will have to be enough." Athena stated.

-'WW'-

Beyond the Court of Hippolyta, and the white Shining Marble City of the Amazons, beyond the garden island, and its cliffs and idyllic golden beaches, lapped the waves of the bluest of seas; whose waters nestled beneath blue skies. All was bounded by the horizon, a veil drawn between this eternal paradise and the brutality of the world of men beyond.

Captain Steve Trevor fell through the heavens, through the horizon, through this barrier, from inter dimensional chaos to clear blue skies, and toward calm blue waters.

The Lockheed Atalanta XP-38 seemed driven by an unseen hand, hurled from the dark and into the light.

Trevor glimpsed a mercurial figure. Impossibly it was beside him. The Army Air Corps Captain stared at the ghost in the air, and saw a image from his childhood come alive in his minds eye. He was once again a lonely boy mourning the loss of his mother. With his grieving father the boy had visited the Islands and seas where Diana Rockwell Trevor's aircraft had been lost, his father had come searching for his wife, and Steve's mom.

The boy stands alone. His father is out at sea, he wanders in the ruined temple overlooking the water. He pauses beside the broken marble of the Messenger god, and for the briefest of moment young Steven glimpses the world how it was. He sees the Temple Court glimmering – glorious in it's heyday, and before him stands a great statue of Hermes.

Could this Mercurial ghost really be the messenger of the gods, the wearer of many masks. Steve cursed his classical education, as now he stared into the dark eyes the trader, the thief, the trickster and magician, and the guide of souls. Is this how it ends he wondered – are these the dreams of dying man; has the Messenger of the gods come to guide me to the afterlife?

Truly Trevor no longer knew whether he was alive or dead. Yet ghostly visage pointed to a distant Island, his smile almost willing the pilot forward, pushing him towards life and away from the purple shadows of death that was the Devil's Triangle.

Galvanised by a new found resolve Trevor fought to overcome the dislocation he felt. Now he could see blue sky. Now he could see the fast approaching blue water. This was bad news but welcome news, because this was real, and familiar.

He was alive. Alive enough to grasp hold forcefully of the planes controls. Here in his hands was something tangible, real and familiar; and Trevor knew he had a fight on his hands.

Both engines were dead, and the Atlanta was going down, fast.

Wrestling with the aircraft, gliding as best he could Trevor tried to keep her in the air. Beyond him he saw the island rise into view once more, but the experienced Aviator knew he his chances of reaching it were slim to none.

Eking out the glide path of his uncooperative plane Trevor grimly accepted the inevitability of his circumstances, as the plane sank towards the sea Steve pushed open the canopy in readiness and at the last moment he braced himself for impact, pulling up the Atalanta's nose, consequently the plane's speed dropped to the point where the XP-38 stalled in the air, and fell the finally into the water.

The XP-38 hit the sea fast and hard, it was a far from a gentle landing. The Atalanta bounced and twisted as if alive, and Trevor was beaten and pummelled in the process. The airframe buckled and the port engine the wing tip snapped free, what happened next was a blur to him, yet somehow Trevor was thrown free; and he found himself in the water.

Stunned the pilot gasped, the wind had been knocked out of him. His head hurt. Steve splashed vainly, his chest felt as if it was on fire; fighting for breath and fighting to keep afloat, he mindfully sought the shore, but it lay tantalisingly close, but still far enough, too far for him now - too far for a man so tired and beaten. Struggling to tread water, the downed aviator began to lose the battle to keep his head above the waves. Then Trevor saw the broken wing tip of the Atlanta floating by, grabbing hold of it he had buoyancy, and then later he began to painfully and slowly haul himself up onto the flotsam. There he lay on his back, staring upwards at the wispy clouds as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Diana, Princess of Themyscira ran. Beside her ran another.

"Mala!" Diana cried out.

He friend Mala raced alongside her, running along the cliff top, enjoying the gutsy sea wind, as the air whipped around them; laughing with childish glee, until this moment both were untroubled by earthly cares, for this was idyllic life that Themyscira's paradise bequeathed to the Amazons.

Yet there was an underlying purpose to the chase, beyond the fun, besides the laughter. It was practise. It was training.

Diana stopped running, her hand was outstretched, the eye of the Huntress had seen the strange metal bird falling from the sky towards Themyscira.

"Mala! Look!" Diana pionted, and together the Amazon sisters watched the XP-38 fall and fail. Diana stared fascinated, and at the same time confused; the desire to experience the new and the strange welled within her.

Mala for her part was more uncertain, more cautious. This was an unique event - this metal bird was a thing from the outside. Like her sisters Mala was many centuries old, and like them she was better placed than the young Diana to appreciate how alien and strange this event was to Themyscira.

Diana witnessed the struggle of the injured man to clamber onto the floating wreckage of the downed plane. Mala took hold of her arm.

"We must report this." She stated firmly.

"Yes." Diana nodded. "Of course; but first we must bring that... _man_ to shore,.. he will surely drown if we leave him, or die of his wounds." The Princess moved to act, saying. "Come Mala."

"Diana. Princess!" Mala protested. "He is a man, from the world beyond..."

"Would you stand idle while he dies?" Diana answered. It was a rhetorical question, for Diana leapt into space as she spoke. Mala was left with no choice but to reluctantly follow dancing down the cliff face, which Diana had cleared in a single leap, somersaulting out into the air beyond the rocks, before diving into the deeper water, swimming towards the unconscious Steve Trevor.

-'S'-

Superman could have overtaken the Mole-man in a heartbeat, but that would defeated the purpose of the chase, where was the creature going, and to whom? Now as they sped along the tunnel the Man of Steel appreciated the logic in its construction it suited the little persons stature perfectly, and only his ability to harness and use gravity meant he could fly through the otherwise constrained space.

This tunnel was unlike the first he had used, whereas that had been a simple direct route, this space was but one of many – a complex of interlinked tunnels that ran between caverns and each other. The Mole-man used these to flee from him, in an attempt to lose his pursuer, but Superman's super-sensory perception meant he kept his quarry in 'sight' despite the creatures clever use of the tunnels maze like layout.

Staying back Superman allowed the Mole-man to believe he had succeeded, and the creature slowed, though not by much, as it pushed on in a singular direction, albeit one that still demanded many changes of tunnel to reach. The new chamber was revealed, and it was clearly a settlement, the Mole-man was one of many, and many now greeted him, his calls brought them into the main space from sub-caves, which served as their homes, out into the main cavern. Superman waited in the darkness of the tunnel, his super-senses observing the clamour, and searching the cave for any sign of the Barnetts.

The first Mole-man he had encountered now greeted another older person of his kind, at least the deeper wrinkles in the Mole-man's face implied that. Superman watched the body language of the meeting, which seemed altogether human. The Man of Tomorrow judged by the older Mole-man to be a man of importance, the other creatures of his kind displayed similar respect to him. A chief perhaps, Superman decided as he broke into the dimly lit chamber, coming to rest beside the first Mole-man, he knelt and copying the other creatures greeting he bowed his head slowly towards the Chief Mole-man.

Around him the crowd erupted, some ran, others did not, instead they brought hand held weapons to bear, that looked sufficiently like a gun like as to be instantly recognisable as firearms. Superman's 'x-ray' vision confirmed this.

They approached him, waving their weapons and shouting. The Man of steel folded his arms defiantly. A shot rang out. Rock shattered near Superman's foot, and running up a Mole-man soldier jammed the metal of the barrel into Superman's thigh. With a casual movement Superman snatched the offending weapon from the angry Mole-man, crushing the metal barrel out of shape, before dropping it to the rock at his feet.

Immediately a series of rounds struck him, and Superman reacted catching the rebounding bullets before they ricocheted dangerously.

He dropped the collected bullets in front of their leader, shaking his head and waving his finger.

The chief Mole-man picked up the spent bullets, they were still hot, holding one he saw how it had deformed against the Man of Steel invulnerable hide.

Finally he looked up at Superman directly, he spoke. "Hello. You from above?" The voice had a childlike quality.

Superman could not read anything into the the tone or conclude much from the question, he was however surprised to hear English.

"Yes, I came from above – the surface." He replied.

"Why you,.. come?"

"I am looking for a woman and two children." Superman replied.

The Mole-man nodded. Then he said. "Your woman? Your children."

"No."

"Then why come?"

"Because it's what I do."

The Mole-man Chief, considered this reply, and he appeared bemused by it.

"Do you know where there are?"

Another Mole-man spoke, this time in the high pitched language of these subterranean people. There was a brief exchange between him and the leading Mole-man. Then the head man returned to English to address the Man of Steel.

"You come after the green glowing rocks."

"I can promise you I don't want those." Superman laughed. A response that left the Mole-men agitated.

"But I would like to know what happened to them?"

"They are gone. You cannot take them." The Headman stated, his eyes flickered to stare momentarily at the crushed gun by Superman's feet. The gun remained a potent reminder of Superman's power.

"As long as they are gone, I am happy, because the green rocks are poisonous, I mean,... they are bad – they can hurt."

"We are made of harder stuff than the Above." Again his eyes glanced at the crushed weapon.

"Perhaps you are." Superman agreed diplomatically. "But as I told you, I have come for the woman and the children, if you know about the green rocks, then you must be able to tell me where they are?" This time Superman looked down at the gun, making an unspoken point.

"You go now."

"No." Superman replied, his eyes flashed red as he engaged his heat vision, the hot beams flashed from his eyes suddenly illuminating the dim chamber. As he had expected sudden bright light had a striking effect on the subterranean people.

The Mole-men screamed hiding their eyes, then their chief looked up at Superman in awe.

"You are like the legends, like the old-ones; but you must know that the Snake-heads have them."

"The Snake-heads?" Superman demanded.

The headman nodded, and said in his language; "Narga."

-'S'-

Diana emerged dripping from the water, carrying the unconscious pilot in her arms. Mala followed.

Themyscria's Princess strode out of the sea and onto the Island of Healing. Distinct for Themyscira proper, this sacred place was open to all, both Amazon, and outsiders – even men, the lost and shipwrecked, so it had been long ago.

It was also a place of research and invention. Here Diana had been tutored in the mysteries, and here she had gone on to study the sciences herself. The Princess had taken a laboratory among the white marble houses and shrines. It was too her own place of study that she brought the still unconscious Steve Trevor.

Marla accompanied her wearing a worried expression; the older Amazon was clearly troubled by this turn of events. Diana lay the injured airman onto her own day bed.

The young Amazon retrieved dry tunics from her closet, taking one for herself, she turned to her friend and said seriously. "Mala don't worry so. I did what was right – what was necessary; to preserve life. That is the Amazon way." She gave the other dress to her friend.

She checked the airman once more. "I fear this man is failing." Diana observed. Saying. "Mala, I must ask you to please call upon a doctor and quickly; I fear he is nearly dead."

The Princess began stripping off her wet clothes. "I would do this myself, but I must also report this rescue." She stated.

Marla nodded. "Yes Princess, the Guard must be told a... man is among us."

Undoubtedly the actions of her Princess were honourable, but Marla, like all her sisters who had lived in Amazonia before Themyscira had been hidden, naturally distrusted all that came from Man's world, but as a subject of the Queen, and more crucially as her Princesses loyal friend, she said. "And of course I will go and fetch a doctor, I will go imeediately to the Temple of the Daughters of Asclepios." !-- page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --

"Thank you." Diana replied. She sighed quietly, as if steeling herself. "I will go now and report all that I have done to my mother."

Queen Hippolyta stood in the Temple of Athena goddess of Wisdom, with her stood her Advisors, the assembled court of the Amazons, and principle among these, was the stoic Phillipus and Oracle Menalippe.

Into the eternal fire the Queen emptied incense, and powerful fragrant smoke erupted into the air. She called out. "Athena goddess of Wisdom, answer us, bring us understanding!"

Silence. So it had been for centuries. Silence from the gods, would they ever speak again? This was the unspoken question each woman dare not speak.

Long moments past.

Then from amidst the silence, from within the fragrant mist, each one was surprised to see a figure, the women gasped as stunned in awe, they saw Athena appear.

There was whisper like a breeze, then from out the fire walked the patron goddess.

The surprise – the tension in the Temple chamber was palpable. The appearance of the avatar of the goddess of Wisdom seemed only to confirm the horrors of Menalippe's vision as real.

Athena towered above them as gods are meant to be, and yet she remained unsubstantial. "Daughters it is true that mankind has envisaged a new form of war.

"You my children are right to fear it.

"This weapon excites Ares, his hunger grows, his nostrils seek the smell of burnt sacrifice, flashing thunder is no longer enough, his belly desires the consumption of millions, burned in flames as hot as the sun, his desire will see our beloved Gaia nothing but scorched earth, with bitter water, and poisonous air.

"A place fit only for his monsters."

Hippolyta knelt before her mistress, and asked. "Lady Athena, what can we do?"

"You must choose an emissary from among your number, a maiden proven though the rites of tournament; one who can journey to man's world and confront the agents of war, one to bring hope and peace where there is only despair and war, a Champion who can frustrate the ambitions of Ares, and deny the god of War the future his twisted appetite craves."

"A Tournament?" Hippolyta gasped.

"And following the old ways there must be a new trial among you, that of the flashing thunder."

"Whoever wins and survives, will receive from the gods gifts that will enable her in the days to come.

"Do you understand child, what must be done?"

"Yes goddess. We shall call a Tournament. We will call for the willing to compete, and from our number will by trial arise a Champion – a worthy Emissary."

The great image of Athena wavered, and like smoke dissipated into the shadows.

The leadership of Themyscira stood in the Temple of Athena in stunned silence. Remarkably it was the youngest Amazon, who unexpectedly broke the uncomfortable quiet, and at the same time announced her presence.

"Mother I will compete in Tournament; and I will be your Champion." Diana grinned widely, her beautiful face full of the confidence of youth.

Hippolyta gasped, and grabbed her daughters arm. Angrily she demanded. "Why Diana do you come among my ministers into Wisdoms Temple? Why are you here in the courts of Athena?"

Diana was stunned, never before had her mother objected to her being party to the government of the Island. She wore her confusion in a puzzled frown, and the hurt she felt showed in her face. Quickly the young woman justified herself.

"Why Mother, I came to find you, and I must now speak with you, it is a matter of importance."

Hippolyta misunderstood her. "You are not to compete, it is not for you."

Diana reacted. She saw her mother's concern as something else; to be denied a chance to compete was tantamount to be being to denied her birthright, she felt her own mother was making her less than an Amazon.

"It was fate that I should be here." Diana insisted. "I have heard the call of Athena – and I shall compete."

Hippolyta rounded on Diana, taking hold of her shoulders.

"You will not. I forbid it! You are still but a child. You will not leave the Island. You will not leave eternal life here to encounter death and corruption among men.

"You will not abandon Paradise. You will not abandon your birthright." The Queen stated emphatically.

Diana's eyes flashed with anger and defiance. "Am I not an Amazon?" She demanded. "Don't I wear my bracelets?"

Hippolyta's eyes flashed angrily in like manner. "Yes you wear the bracelets, but Hera knows you did _not_ wear the manacles that they represent!"

Breathing hard the Queen closed her eyes, and taking control of the anger, and the dark memories that fuelled her rage, she sighed and added. "And my darling – never, never, would I ever wish for a single moment that terrible experience upon you."

Diana tried to speak, but the Queen interrupted her, and said forcefully. "This challenge is _not_ for you; unlike your sisters you have never felt the touch of a man, and I by my word you shall _never_ be tainted by them.

Then with a clear gesture of her hand she dismissed her daughter saying. "This is not a matter for discussion - you will never know the ways of the world of man." Hippolyta turned away, walking to join her ministers of the Amazon Court.

Diana was aghast, now more than ever she felt her mother was denying her birthright, denying she was truly an Amazon. Following the Queen, she countered in anger. "You're too late Mother." Diana snapped. "I have touched a man, I have held him in my arms. I have bought his life back from Posideon's realm, and even now he sleeps upon my bed."

"What!" Hippolyta span around, her hand raised to strike her defiant and wilful daughter. "How dare you speak such things? Great Hera, here in the House of Athena? Have you lost your senses?"

"It is like I said to you, I came here to find you, to tell you this! But you didn't listen." Diana replied defiantly; inviting her mother to strike her. "To explain how a metal bird fell from the sky, how a man came from inside it, how I plucked him from the sea, and left him on the Island of Healing."

Hyppolyta's hand wavered and then fell to her side, she seemed to deflate before he daughter.

Diana took her mothers hand, and with a softer voice, but still with urgency saying. "Don't you see mother – this is why he fell from the sky today of all days!

"This is why it was my hand that saved him; his life, his safety is my obligation. It was the work of the gods, and now that I am now bound by tradition to see him delivered safely to his people; so clearly it _must_ be my destiny to be the Emissary to Man's world – the Champion of whom Athena spoke."

Hippolyta spoke quietly. "I have no intention of losing you Diana, not now – not ever, the answer remains no."

"But.."

"Silence child." The Queen interrupted, finding her commanding voice once more. "I am your mother, but I am also your Queen. I have spoken - so have I ruled.

" Phillipus you have heard me - Diana is not permitted to take part in the tournament."

"Yes my Queen." The Amazon Warrior replied. Turning her firm gaze upon the unique younger woman.

At that moment Diana knew her cause was lost, the Royal Guard would not hesitate to carry out the Queen's command. The matter was settled.

Immediately she ran. She fled the Queen, her mother, running from Phillipus and the others, down the marble steps of Temple of Athena. All the while her eyes smarted with tears she refused to cry.

Diana ran her teeth clenched to stifle the cries of rage she refused to voice; she ran into the Temple gardens in search of solitude.

in the shadow of the statue of Athena she fell to her knees, certain that she was by herself Diana began to cry; the tears of a young woman alone in city of immortals.

Diana however was mistaken, she was seen. For the woman called among the Amazons, Magala the sorceress, watched the Princess of Themyscira weep in the gardens of Athena.

Magala stood hidden in the trees. She was not an Amazon by birth, she had not received the gift of Aphrodite. Magala was like Diana an oddity among the Amazons; for the sorceress was a plain woman, whose face bore lines of age. She was a refugee from the realm of Hades, a life rescued from the pit, pulled back through the infernal Dooms Door, Magala was an immigrant to Themyscira.

Shuffling forward she interrupted Diana. The young woman immediately fought back her tears and internalised her rage. The Princes stood silent. Diana felt ashamed and exposed, caught out. Then came indignation.

"Why are you creeping around here?" Diana demanded. "Why are you spying on me?"

"Princess, cannot an old woman on a fine evening take a walk in Athena's gardens?"

Diana fumed, but she had no answer.

"Now child nothing is hid from old Magala, I sees all, I knows all, I possess nothing; that is the way of magic."

"What do you know?"

"A Champion must arise. Be chosen, or the world will burn." The old woman replied.

"Yes." Diana accepted that Magala knew these things. Her magic was famous.

"Magala, do you know this? It appears I am not an Amazon – at least my own mothers thinks this."

"My Princess you and I are not so different, both of us are late comers to Themyscira and immortality. In every way I am less an Amazon than you, but never has any one here ever treat me any differently because of it."

"Yet my mother won't let me compete - as is an Amazon's right - at the Champions Tournament. Am I forever to be a child, always a girl, never to be a woman?"

Magala drew closer saying. "Child I can only tell you what I see, and I see things here with an outsiders view; and what I see is this - in every way that matters you _are_ an Amazon; you are blessed by the same goddesses,..." Magala paused before saying with a broken smile. "But better than that, you my Princess are not tainted by the old defeat in Amazonia , nor the vengeance that followed - you are purer than any of them!

"No my Princess, I say you are a woman, and an Amazon!

"I have seen you grow in grace and wisdom, I have watched as the best of the best trained in the ways of Themyscira. I have seen you use the power of her mind, through practise and discipline in everything. You have excelled in this martial art, a mystery millennia in the making, and unique in the world.

"Child I do not lie when I say you are more than your sisters can ever hope to be."

Diana looked at the Sorceress surprised and perplexed.

Magala nodded. "Princess you know it in your heart. I can see you do. You know that your destiny lies beyond the shores of this Island."

"Do I?"

"Yes. For I have seen it."

"Truly Magala – you have seen this?"

Magala laughed, she bowed, and smiled. "I am who I am my Princess; and because of my calling I have received a gift which is meant for you - a gift from the gods."

Diana smiled. "What is it?" She asked with a smile. "A gift from gods – you say?" Diana shook her head. "Surely not." She whispered, yet her heart beat faster in anticipation.

Slightly hunched, with one hand firmly wrapped around a sturdy staff, the immigrant Magala began rummaging in a large leather bag that hung from her shoulder, from which the Sorceress passed to Diana something oval, wrapped in cloth.

The young Amazon began unwrapping the gift, but was surprised to see in her hands a crude carved face, with holes for eyes, and gaping mouth.

"What is this?" Diana asked abashed. It seemed so primitive; it was nothing like she imagined a 'gift from the gods' to be.

With a wry smile Magala replied. "This is Proteus mask. Carved by the hand of Posideon's son." She reached out and took hold of the mask. Diana released to her, and without hesitation the older woman brought the crude image to her face, covering it. In an instant the old woman shimmered and changed, and then in her place stood Diana's twin. It was as if the Princess was looking into a mirror.

"Great Hera!" Diana exclaimed.

Her doppelgänger smiled and shook her mane of dark hair, she pouted and then laughed, then as Magala removed the mask of Proteus, the illusion ended and she was herself once again.

"When the Tournament begins you shall wear this mask. None. Not even the Queen, your mother, or the seer Menalippe will recognise you. All they will see is an Amazon competitor, and from the ranks of the many you will have the opportunity you crave, the opportunity to prove yourself to be an Amazon – a true daughter of Themyscira."

Diana took the mask from Magala's outstretched hand. She hesitated, then seeing the Sorceress nod, Diana raised the crude wooden caricature to her face. Then Diana was gone, in her place stood Phillipus, her ebony skin flawlessly copied, her stern authoritative stare perfectly reproduced.

Diana removed the Proteus mask, and the illusion was removed. "Thank you, I can't believe this." Diana whispered. Then she said. "You realise my mother. The Queen,... she has commanded Phillipus, the Royal Guard, not to permit me..."

"Hmmph" Magala coughed and waved a dismissive hand before her face. Clearly Phillipus was on the Princesses mind. "She will not recognise you – I promise no one will."

"Lady, we would be going against the Queens wishes."

"Hera knows." Magala replied laughing. "_Now_ you worry about your mother's wishes; or is the General's wrath."

"I worry about anyone aiding me to defy the Crown. I worry not for me, but for you."

"Sweet child." The Sorceress smiled saying. "I know Hippolyta to be a noble woman, and a good ruler; _but_ child we are _all_ servants of the gods.

"And this my Princess, this mask, this gift, this opportunity, your destiny – all this comes from Olympus."

"From the gods themselves?" Diana asked.

"Great Hera! Child where else? This mask came to me by the hand of Hermes himself - or did you think I jested when I called this 'a gift of the gods'?"

"I thought it to be a gift, I mean a gift in the more general sense..."

Magala chuckled. "Like a sunny day, or lucky shot?"

Diana nodded.

The Sorceress took her hand. "Princess for a long time the gods of Olympus have turned away from human affairs, this has changed, and they have chosen you especially for their favour."

Diana looked at the crude wooden mask. She swallowed as she considered the implication of this magical object.

"I must prepare, make ready, there is so much to do!" Diana gasped. She turned to leave, saying. "Thank you Magala, I will do my best to honour the gods."

The older woman watched the Princess of Themyscira run joyfully into the dusk.

The garden of Athena was silent once more. Then came a deep whisper, a man's voice.

"She was easily persuaded." He observed.

"My Lord Hermes." Magala nodded her head in the direction of the shadows. Out of the darkness the avatar from Olympus emerged and took solid form. Magala looked directly at him; she smiled and asked. "I trust Lord Proteus will not miss his mask."

"He has not missed it yet." Hermes chuckled. "Well done outlander. I shall return in due course, there is still much to done."

Magala bowed once more, as the god of thieves, journeymen, guide of souls and Messenger of Olympus took flight and disappeared into the night.


	41. Chapter 41

Lex Luthor smashed his fist angrily on the leather topped desk. A vein on his hairless cranium throbbed. Shouting he directed his ire at the black uniformed officer of the SS: Hauptsturmführer Wilhelm Leichlingen, the intelligence officer who had arranged his defection to Nazi Germany.

"I require a sample of the Winston Comet, my work here is being stalled by your inability to source even a genuine fragment of Meteorite. Come Hauptsturmführer Leichlingen – why have you failed me?"

The Blond Captain did not react in kind, instead he relaxed, crossing his legs, he lent back in his chair, saying.

"Most of reported Metorites fell over the Americas Doctor Luthor, this in itself presents difficulties to us, while not at war with United States, our relations are strained to say the least."

Lighting a cigarette the Nazi continued. "That said, our agents have been frustrated Herr Luthor."

Lex sat down and glared back at the SS man. "As have I, the so called samples so far delivered have been all proven to be misrepresented - I need the real thing if I am to crack the secrets contained in the Superman's cells. This accidental discovery is the key to creating true Aryan Supermen - and you yourself promised me a meteorite Herr Captain. Without a real fragment of the Barnett Winston Comet my work is stalled." He lent forward. "The Fuhrer will not be pleased."

Leichlingen nodded, but countered. "And your own Consortium..."

"It was never mine." Lex snapped back interrupting.

The German nodded patiently, he continued. "At least as much that remains of the organisation; they tell me the same story. Where Meteorites have been recovered, well, let us say they have disappeared in mysterious circumstances."

"Oh come Captain. You expect me to believe this story of a space robot!"

"The universe is stranger than we can imagine – is it not Herr Luthor?

"I for one find the accounts of the Metropolis Marvel unbelievable, yet you yourself have seen this Superman."

"Exactly!" Luthor said, banging his desk once more. "Clearly it is the same man.

"The 'robot' is a ruse by Superman, permitting him to appear law abiding, while doing as he pleases."

"Even though the robot and Superman were seen fighting?" Leichlingen noted. "The Metropolis Marvel fought the machine into the water in the Port District according to reports."

Luthor laughed. "And that means nothing, such a display could be easily contrived by a being of his power simply to divert suspicion from his real agenda."

"His real agenda Herr Doctor? Surely that is self evident? Isn't Superman a champion of the oppressed, a righter of wrongs, an all American hero?"

Luthor laughed. Saying with a scornful smile. "No man of power and intelligence would adopt such a simple agenda as is attributed to this Superman; in no small part by the popular press.

"It is a clever act, I grant you that - appearing to be a 'champion of the oppressed'. It has made him an 'American hero'; and the authorities, the Politicians, they are afraid of the masses, and the masses can't get enough of such heroes.

"No Captain - he is a clever one this Superman; but I tell you there is more to this man than truth, justice and the American way; the 'robot thefts' prove it - this Superman clearly knows something, possibly all there is know; about these Meteorites."

Luthor stabbed his finger at the stoic soldier. "By a happy accident They are the key to unlocking the biology of the 'Metropolis Marvel', and these thefts prove he knows this, proves it is obvious that he wishes to keep this power to himself."

"Perhaps." Leichlingen acknowledged. "I can see that he would wish to preserve his advantage."

"Well Herr Captain? In principle I have given you the answer to this advantage, – all I require to move forward is some space-rock, now I wait and wait some more, waiting to see what the great German nation can do to that end." Luthor stated provocatively.

"Herr Luthor, that is why I am here."

Lex frowned. "Go on. Get to the point."

"We have other options. We have shall we say allies - an underground organisation – for want of a better term, who are present in North America. It has reached my attention that, err..... these people have now in their possession, almost certainly, what we have been searching for."

"Samples of the Barnett Winston Comet." Luthor said.

"Exactly."

"Why in God's name didn't you tell me this at the start?"

"Herr Doctor you didn't give me a chance!" Leichlingen advised, saying "You began by demanding from me why I had failed to deliver to you a Meteorite rock – so I answered your question honestly.

"Now I am honestly telling you that I _may_ have a means of obtaining a sample for you."

"But you are not certain."

"I fear only you can be – when the results of your experiments speak for themselves.

"I can only bring to you what I am given. If it works as you expect, then we will both be very pleased."

Luthor nodded."Very well. I will await the sample, and yes, let us hope we are - as you say - both very pleased by it."

-'S'-

Superman sat down with the Mole-men's leader 'outside' his home; his private hollow in the main cavern wall. It was a well appointed open space, furnished with elaborately decorated cushions; here in the underworld there was no distinct exterior - interior divide, all was contained underground.

The Chieftain after coming to a truce of sorts with the surface dweller, had led him here, indicated they should sit together.

The Man of Steel was glad to do so, he felt no ill towards these people; he had after all arrived unannounced – invaded what was truly a communal dormitory.

The Mole-man's family busily fussed around them, serving food and drink. The subterranean hominids appeared asexual, but the Man of Tomorrow saw that despite the lack of visual clues to their gender, there were Mole-women also. Superman ever confident in his own cast iron constitution did not hesitate to accept the hospitality they offered, sampling the foods – they tasted odd, but not unpleasant. Then following his hosts lead Superman found himself joining the Chief in an awkward toast of sorts.

It was here that the Mole-man surprised the Man of Steel. "Cheers." The creature said tentatively.

Superman smiled and replied "Cheers." Wondering where the little person had learned this expression.

The Headman answered this question unprompted, as if wanting to gain the approval of his powerful guest, he passed across an leather journal.

Straight away Superman could tell this was an old book, the hand written entries confirmed it, the last had been made almost fifty years before.

Superman with both great speed and great care began leafing through it's yellowing pages. The Man of Tomorrow quickly learned a number of things; the author had been a mine engineer; a man called Leonard Rourke. Accidentally his team had blasted an opening into a deep cave. Curious Rourke had investigated the chamber, but this curiosity had cost him dearly, a rock fall had sent him falling a great distance into water.

Rourke's journal told how he had later regained consciousness, finding he had been washed by an underground river into the subterranean world. Injured and in great pain Rourke fully expected to die, but instead he had been found by the Mole-men. They had set his his broken bones and treat his injuries as best they could, and as he had convalesced, Rourke had learned the basics of the creatures language, although in his journal the miner had confessed the little people had found it far easier to learn the basics of English, than he had theirs.

Superman reflected that given so many of the Mole-men's words used sounds beyond the normal human range that was unsurprising.

Reaching the end of the journal entries, Superman turned to the Chief. "What happened to the surface-man - the man who wrote this?"

The Chief, cocked his head to one side. "Long time ago, he gone now?"

"Yes I suppose he must be." Superman acknowledged. "I just found it odd that he stopped making entries so abruptly."

The Mole-man frowned as if deep in thought. Superman was aware that the smaller man's understanding of English was at best rudimentary, however the hairy hominid showed remarkable intuition, his best guesses were more often right than not."

"Long time ago. I remember. Did not die with me. He taken – Narga.

" Narga take Man, long time ago, I was warrior then."

"Like the Winstons?" Superman asked. "The woman, you said the Narga took her too?"

"Yes like that. Narga's don't like others having things. Narga's like to have things. Narga's come and take things.

"We take some green glowing stones - they take some green glowing stones.

"But Narga not happy - they want all the stones. They don't share.

"Then they attack us more - soon ago. They want new fire stones for themselves."

"Narga take your woman, and children soon ago."

Superman leant forward. "Tell me friend where are these Narga to be found?"

-'S'-

The Princess of Themyscira carried with her the strange Proteus mask as she ran through the night. Exercise channelled her emotions, helped her think more clearly. It was exciting – even intoxicating to know that she could compete in the Tournament; that she could honour the gods, and defy her mother at the same time.

In due course Diana felt ready to face her world once more, and her thoughts returned to the man she had saved. Taking a boat she crossed the short stretch of water between Themyscira and the Isle of Healing. Returning to her laboratory; to her responsibility, to the fallen aviator she had plucked from the sea.

Waiting for her was Mala, Diana embraced her. "Thank you. You are a good friend. I'm sorry I was away so long."

"How was the Queen?" Mala asked her directly. "What did she say about the man?"

Diana did not know how to answer Mala first question. So she skipped to the second. "My mother understands we are obligated to do all we can to save life."

"That is the Amazon way." Her friend agreed, relieved.

Casually Diana remarked. "There is to be a Tournament to choose an Emissary to travel to Man's world."

"Yes we heard." Mala replied. "News travels fast on Themyscira, does it not?" She reflected.

"I am sorry Diana, sorry the Queen will not allow you to compete." Mala added.

Diana turned away. She smiled as she slipped the Proteus mask still wrapped in cloth among her things. She wondered what the fates had in mind, first a man in Themyscira, then Athena herself appears in visitation to call for Tournament! Hermes brings her this mask by Magala's hand.

Mala felt awkward, but she persisted. "I am sorry about Tournament, you would have done well Diana, you are very talented."

"How is the man faring?"The Princess replied changing the subject.

Mala smiled weakly. "He still lives; but you best ask the Doctor."

Entering the room where Trevor lay, Diana saw a Physician was at work tending him. This inspired confidence.

Diana assumed all was well; that Amazonian science was at work – an Amazon Physician been called – so clearly the man would soon be restored to full health. She had no reason to think otherwise.

Recognising the Doctor she said. "Greetings Althea."

The Doctor nodded. "Princess."

"When will he regain consciousness?" Diana asked.

"I am sorry Princess, there is no guarantee that he will." Althea replied.

"Why?" Diana was alarmed. This she did not expect. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Princess, he is gravely hurt."

"Well, yes... but surely..." Diana seemed lost for words.

Althea continued to explain. "He has fracture to his skull, his brain is injured – there is swelling that I must relieve, and he is bleeding internally.

"I am sorry simply put his prospects are not good – you should prepare yourself for the worst."

"Can't you heal him?" Diana asked incredulously.

"I can operate - stop the bleeding." Althea shrugged. "Healing,.. that is something that is in the lap of the gods."

"And surgery will be enough?" Diana asked,clearly confused. Saying "Why haven't you taken him to the Temple of the Daughters of Asclepios?"

It was Althea's turn to appear lost for words.

"Oh Diana!" Mala sighed. "Don't you realise - that cannot be done."

"Why - can't he be moved?"

"As it happens he cannot." Althea replied.

"Then I will bring a medicine box, and with the collected Purple Rays, heal him here." Diana stated.

The Physician Althea took her hand. "Child, the rays of purple light that descend from the great amethystos are of a particular frequency.

"It has always been this way – the purple rays are meant for the Amazon physiology – for our bodies alone."

Diana made no attempt to hide her genuine surprise. Pulling free of the Doctor hand. "No one ever told me so." She glared at Mala, it was an accusatory stare.

Diana was genuinely stunned. She felt like a child, not for the first time she realised her guardians had hidden the full truth from her.

"Why?" She asked. "I remember the story distinctly. This Island of Healing has always been open to all. None are turned away?"

"So it always was." Althea agreed. "But that was so long ago. Before we were set apart.

"Then Themyscira could be reached by sea, and men sometimes were driven here by the winds and their ships were wrecked in the storms; I remember this well.

"We would bring them here to this Island, but never to the Temple, never into the Purple Ray, because it did not work for them."

Mala agreed. "Yes Diana it was like that, but then after Desecration, the blessed goddesses came together and sealed us away from man's world – so never again did any of expect a man to come to Themyscira."

"Except a man did." Diana observed. "Look I understand – you are telling me the Temples healing rays only heal Amazons; but you're not telling me why that is.

"You haven't explained to me about the Outsiders, sisters like the Sorceress Magala?" Diana demanded. "What of the women from Man's World who have joined us – is the Temple closed to them too, because if so, I've never heard of it!"

The Doctor frowned. "The purple ray has proved useful with those Outsiders who have become part of the Sisterhood."

Diana frowned. "Althea what do you mean proved useful? Surely the purple ray either works on outsiders or it does not, and if it works then why not let this 'outsider', this man, be helped also."

"Princess the sisters who are adopted into our family are women! This is a man! Girl can't you see the difference?" Althea appeared exasperated, embarrassed even.

"Surely you know how we came to live?" The Doctor reasoned.

"Of course!" Diana snapped. "The goddesses called our souls forth from the void, from Gaia - each a woman soul who had died a violent death at the hands of men, and the goddesses gave us bodies formed from primordial clay."

"Exactly My Princess" Althea said, asking. "How then could the same frequency work upon a man – cannot you not see how different we are?"

"No - not entirely, we are all human are we not?"

The Doctor frowned. "That may be, but all I can tell you is the Purple Ray is less effective on female outsiders than on Amazon's; the time needed to heal them is much greater. Some have died before they rays could restore them!" Then as an afterthought she concluded. "But this has not happened in your lifetime."

"Can't we at least try?" Diana asked.

"Child believe me. I know. Long ago I tried the Purple Ray on men, it did not work.." Althea replied wearily.

"Princess you speak of Magala." She began. "I remember the day she came to us, tumbling from Dooms Door, she was broken and near death, the purple ray saved her, but it could not restore to her the strength of youth, and her body still bears the scars of that day.

"Surely just looking at her you can see that, if the Purple ray was so effective on non-Amazons - do you think we would have permitted her to suffer so?"

"So there is nothing you can do?" Diana asked sadly, looking at the ashen face of injured man; the life she had saved, the life that Amazon tradition insisted from this day she was responsible for.

"There is much I can _try_ to do, but Princess prepare yourself for his death."

"I don't understand why I was not told the purple ray was so limited in power." Diana said coolly.

"I suppose it is something that embarrasses us." Mala explained. "No one likes to talk about the differences between those who are adopted as Amazons, and those who were created as Amazons – we prefer to think of ourselves as one family."

"When you have lived a certain way for centuries Diana you grow accustomed to things being as they are; do not be angry with us, or your tutors – this is an error of omission, not a deceit."

"This is unacceptable." Diana stated, then without another word she left the laboratory.

"She is running away from the grim expectation of death." Althea said.

Mala replied. "Diana has the body of a Amazon, and the skills to shame many an experienced Warrior - but she is still so very young; death is something she has never faced."

Althea nodded. "I think there is more to this than saving one life."

"You mean the Queen forbidding her to compete in the Tournament?" Mala agreed. "The fact she can't prove herself there, and now this man she thought she had saved is dying – a double blow."

Mala looked at deathly pale Trevor.

"What is to be done with him?"

"It is true I dare not move him." Althea said. "But I will stay with him here for now, if you will arrange for what I need to be sent from the Temple to this laboratory."

"Of course; what do you need?"

"Wait a moment Mala, I will write a list for you."

Diana sighted the Temple of the Daughters of Asclepios. It was but a short sprint from her own laboratory. There Steve Trevor lay dying. Diana was not about to let that happen, not without a fight. She had already formed a plan in her mind.

It was typical of the older Amazons, they were so set in there ways, so unreceptive to change, so unwilling to try new things, new ideas, always seeking to mould her into their way of thinking, well Diana was determined to do things her own way.

Mala in due course entered the shrine of healing, carrying with her a extensive list of persons, medicines and machinery that Althea required. Passing the Temple Mala felt compelled to pay her respects, to offer a prayer for the dying man, before visiting the hospital complex that lay behind the Shrine itself.

She walked through the tall columns into the sanctum, here resplendent marble statues of the three granddaughters of Apollo, the Daughters of Asclepios namely; Hygieia, Meditrine, and Panacea looked down upon her; while above them was suspended a huge crystal amethyst glowing in the light of the sun, casting a wide circular beam of purple light onto the Temple floor.

It was then Mala saw her Princess.

Diana stood at the edge of the circle, in her hand was an intricate metal device that Mala instantly recognised, it's arrangement of mirrors reflecting the Purple Rays of the amethyst above, concentrating them into another much smaller crystal at the heart of machine.

"Diana – that is medicine box."

"Yes it is."

"Princess I don't understand!" Mala complained. "Why waste an unspoiled crystal?

"Diana, it cannot help the man, even if you expose him to the stored Purple Rays; all that will happen is the crystal will shine until it's energies are spent, and he will not benefit from them, either way it will be used up."

"I have an idea Mala. Nothing is truly coincidence, it is fate that brought this man to us, to me, and there is a reason for this that only the gods know."

"Perhaps that is true." Mala said cautiously.

"Please can we keep this as our secret, at least for now." Diana asked. She remained still, keeping her hand extended so that the device remained immersed in the purple light. Diana kept a tiny dial in sight that revealed the state of the crystals charge.

Mala sighed. "Very will Princess. I will not tell anyone, but if Althea or indeed any of the Physicians find out about this; they will not be pleased."

"Yes Mala I'm sure you are right, they will say to me 'Diana, don't you know how long it takes a crystal like this to grow?' then they will remind me this crystal measures it's time by centuries, while I still mark my life in mere years."

Mala could not disagree, they would more than likely say exactly that.

She watched as Diana charged the medicine box, the portable receptacle for the healing light of the purple ray. She also saw that her Princess was angry and determined to prove herself.

"I am sorry you cannot compete a Tournament, I looked forward to beating you in the games." She said with a smile.

Diana laughed. "In your dreams Mala, I could take you any time."

Mala laughed as well, Diana was probably right, Mala suspected the young woman was already a match for any Amazon on Themyscira. "In all seriousness I am truly sorry, I think it is unfair. I think you could have won."

"Perhaps I would have done; and yes I do think it is unfair Mala." Diana said. "But don't worry about me, I can keep myself busy."

"That is what I worry about Princess." Mala replied, adding. "I have here a list of people and items that Althea requires to treat the man, I should not delay." Marla told her friend.

Diana nodded. "I thought that might be the reason you were here." Then a moment later she said. "I'm done here now, the crystal is full charged." As Diana spoke, the clever metal device in her hand folded in upon itself, closing around the glowing purple crystal within. Only then did Diana remove the compact box from the rays of purple light, tucking the the finely crafted device back into tunic.

"Come on then." She said holding out her hand to Mala. "I'll help with Althea's list. Provided you keep quiet about this medicine box – of course."

The two women left the shrine and entered the adjacent building.

-'S'-

The Mole-man Chieftain agreed to guide Superman to the Narga's underworld. He gathered together a group of Warriors, and each hoisted a heavy pack of supplies.

Superman had struggled to grasp the Mole-mans concept of time, they certainly had no concept of his. Day and night had no meaning to them, underground there was no sun to measure the passing hours, there was no moon or stars, but whatever scheme they used Superman concluded it seemed to be related to hunger, to meal times, and judging by the provisions the Warriors were carrying stuffed within their packs, the journey to Narga territory was going to take days not hours.

Superman alone could have travelled much faster, but he had to accept his new allies terms, they wish to take him where he wanted to go; and the Chieftain had refused to countenance any other solution. They would not draw out a map, or try to tell him the way he must go, they would not let him travel on alone. His new friends were however happy it seemed to guide him. Superman reflected this meant both trusting these little people and moving at the Mole-man's pace; but this remained Superman's best option, they were his only lead to Kate Winston and her boys.

-'S'-

Once the man was stabilised Althea left him in Diana's care. The Temple Hospital was but a javelin throw away, and as a Doctor, Althea had her own responsibilities. There was to be a Tournament, and all the Amazonian Physicians needed to prepare for these games, because their skills would be needed.

Diana reflected on her unique situation, and not for the first time.

The gods instruct, the Queen commands, and life on the Island continues, each woman to her place, each – Marla, Althea, General Philipus, even her mother the Queen had a role, each a wheel in great machine.

All except Diana.

Until now.

Diana had a mission. She set the metal medicine box beside Steve Trevor, and triggering intricate mechanism, she watched as the device unfolded. Instantly Purple rays filled the room.

Diana quickly adjusted the mirrors that surrounded the crystal until the light was concentrated upon the pilot's body.

Beside him ornate mechanisms hummed and ticked. His life signs were measured by Amazonian science.

Diana loved science, she had an aptitude for it, in every way she was protege, not only were her martial skills exemplary, but her intellect was extraordinary, but as a singular child among a nation of adults she had no peers to measure herself against, her only friends had been women who were far far older than she.

Two thousand years had past since the Antikythera mechanism computed the movement of the heavens, two millennia since Heronas' steam engine, twenty centuries and more since Eratosthenes of Cyrene calculated the circumference of the Earth, the tilt of the earth's axis, and the distance from the earth to the sun.

While Man's world had been torn apart by war, plunged into darkness, the Amazon's had lived in peace and security, with the benefits of living classical education. Necessity on occasion had been the mother of invention – and Diana's laboratory bore testament to that invention. She had all the equipment and devices she could wish for, and much else beside; a Princess of Themyscira could expect nothing less.

Diana reflected on this rich intellectual legacy as she concentrated her highly disciplined mind, pursuing a solution to the problem that was Steve Trevor.

What no one could know was that unseen forces were at work within her. Diana was driven to succeed, and unknowingly she began to tap into her full potential. Blessed from birth she had received gifts of her Amazon's Patron goddesses, but also uniquely Diana had been given the blessing of Hermes. His gift was speed; and now his gift became manifest; not in her body - but in her mind, and long into the night Diana's thoughts sped forward at an incredible pace.

Mala finds her friend locked away in her laboratory, Diana has shut out any and all distractions; she ignores busy Themyscira, ignores the hustle and bustle as her sisters prepare for the Tournament. Instead she labours night and day to perfect a healing ray that will save Trevor's life.

Mala makes time to visit her each and every one of those days. Each time she finds her Princess completely absorbed in her work, and her concern grows with each passing hour. "Diana you must sleep, you've had no rest for three days or nights."

Diana eyes remain fixed on the machines she has built, devices that measure the length of frequency of the Purple Ray. Her attention shifts to the devices that monitor the pilot's health. Diana simply raises her hand and says. "Let me alone. Please Mala. I've almost got it."

Mala agog with surprise does not know how to answer, thinking could it be true – could her Princess, the baby of Themyscira, have really solved the mystery of the Purple Ray?

"That is the same crystal?" Mala asked. "The same as yesterday?"

Diana nodded. "There has only been one, this one."

"It still burns after three days?"

Diana nodded, and Mala was truly amazed. Her Princess had succeeded in extending the energies of the Purple Ray, could she really now go on to master all it's mysteries? The Amazon did not know, perhaps she thought even I have underestimated our Princess.

Five days pass. Now Tournament is but a mere twenty four hours away. Mala returns once more – her concern for her Princess now out weighing her promises of secrecy. Diana acknowledges her friend without looking up from her work, the babe of Themyscira shakes the fatigue from her fingers, rubs the nub her neck, and only then does she turn to greet Mala properly; but her friend is not alone.

"Doctor, I didn't expect to see you here at this hour?"

Althea quickly assesses the dials on the machines that support Trevor's life. "Child the man is dead, only our technology sustains him." The Amazon Medic states.

Diana shook her head in frustration. "Doctor you don't understand. I've discovered how to modulate the Purple Healing Ray frequency, I can adjust the ray to match the physiology of anyone, man, woman or child."

Althea smiled, but calmly and firmly disagreed. "That is impossible. Come Diana do you think you are first to try and decipher this gift of the gods? No child, I fear your fatigue is too great, you are over wrought.

"No one can say you did not try, no one can say you shirked your duty as an Amazon to preserve this man's life."

"No!" Diana said with conviction. "I am not a child, no more will I let you all treat me this way.

"I am an adult, I am your Princess. You will see – both of you." Diana fiercely insisted.

The Doctor was immediately flustered, she tried to reply, but her stutters were interrupted silently by Mala who gently pulled her sister back away from Diana and the man.

Diana adjusted her own devices. "Doctor it is fate you should come at this moment. I had just finished the entering the last of my calculations into the mechanism." As she explained Diana brought an array of tubes through which the ray of the purple light began to channel.

"I have already sustained a healing crystal for five full days without deterioration in its output."

The Doctor was stunned – her face showed it.

Diana was the only child the Island had ever known. Her sisters were not simply older, but her seniors by centuries, her entire life represented a fraction of theirs – what were two decades compared to two millennia. Yet this child of Hippolyta had done something amazing.

The Amazon Medic Althea approached the machines that had moments supported Trevor's life, and now this time with Diana's tacit permission she checked the dials once more.

"I can't believe it, a miracle is happening, these readings, your healing ray is bringing him back to life!"

Diana laughed, and she cried, wearily she collapsed in her chair.

Mala came over to her. "Now Princess can you rest?"

Diana shook her head. "I must monitor the dials."

"Does the ray need adjustment?" The Doctor asked.

"No, it should work, the frequency is set for his physiology."

"Then it is only the dials?"

Diana nodded.

"I think I am more than qualified to do that my Princess." Althea volunteered.

"But."

Mala put her hand on her friends shoulder. "No." She said firmly, and without a word, she scooped the Princess into her arms. "You my Lady are going to sleep."

Diana did not fight her, and Mala carried her to the cot at the far side of the room, and there Mala watched the youngest Amazon sleep.

-'S'-

The cave walls were collapsing, the high pitch cries of the Mole-men carried through the complex maze of tunnels and Superman heard them, and it sounded all bad. The Man of Tomorrow acted driving forward smashing through the rock itself.

Blasting through to rescue the velvet haired subterranean hominids. His new found ally the Chief Mole-man had agreed to take the Man of Steel deeper into the Earth, to where the Narga where to be found, but not without insisting a scouting party preceded them. Superman could not dissuade him. Now however he put aside good manners and the Man of Steel left the Chieftain and his Warriors stunned in his wake.

Superman chisel like burst through cave wall, something like gunshots echoed around the cavern, it sounded hollow, almost a quick hiss followed by a sharp pop. Superman guessed it were some chemically powered projectile weapon. He could see the little peoples scouting party had scattered, the Mole-men finding cover where they could.

There was another stronger chemical smell in the air – the same acidic odour he had smelled when he had first entered the long tunnel between the underworld and the blast cavern beneath the Metro hills. Here it was intense.

Superman could see the source. Smoke rose from a newly carved shaft, the enemies point of entrance. Smoke also rose from the body of the thing which had burst through the tunnel and into cave.

Deep pink, it appeared like a grotesque earthworm that had been compressed together at both ends, making it shorter but fatter, and then inflated in size many times.

The worm's dimensions matched those of the tunnels.

Superman could see this passing similarity to a worm was very superficial, the creature was many times more complex than a humble earthworm, in fact it's biology was so radical as to qualify as alien. It could by secretion digest rock using acid, carving a route through the underworld.

The velvet hominids returned fire. Their enemy was reptilian, Superman observed the feathered pale white lizard-men as they scuttled out of the tunnel, they were man-sized, and he heard their sing-song language as they called to each other.

Like the creatures Hepheastus had called Anunki; who had attacked Deedee and him in the cavern under the San Gabriel Mountains; these were same in almost every way. Except these reptilians were noticeably shorter in stature - whatever that difference meant, as with the Annunki, Superman could see the same chimeric mix of man, bird and reptile. Large opal eyes were the only characteristic in an other wise featureless face save the wide mouth filled with needle like teeth. Again they sported fine downy feathers like hair.

The reptilians used the tunnelling creature for cover, and it was either regarded by them as expendable, or it was very resilient, for the hide of the beast was soon peppered with steaming wounds. The Mole-men returned fire as best the could, while from behind the tunnelling animal the Narga fanned outwards to secure more ground.

The Reptilian's chemical bullets popped around him, crackling with an acidic hiss, but Superman was able to ignore them, not so lucky, the heavily outnumbered Mole-men were being pinned down by the enemies constant fire.

There was red-blue blur.

The Man of Tomorrow, knocked the weapons from the nearest Narga sending the feathered reptilians tumbling backwards, he came to a halt before the most impressively dressed of the bunch.

Where the tall Annunki had worn long robes, these shorter beings, the Mole-man's enemy; the Narga – these did not wear clothes as such, but armour.

Superman settled on facing the Narga whose plate mail was the most ornate of them all. Superman guessed the best and brightest armour had to belong to whoever was in charge of the assault – the commanding officer in human terms.

Behind him the Man of Steel could hear his allies arriving from out of the rock, the Mole-man Chief with the rest of his men, were charging out of the tunnels into the larger cave.

Superman's hand grabbed hold the metallic plate mail and lifted the reptilian into the air with him, hovering a few feet above the ground. The Narga spat poison directly at him, again the Narga were, like the taller Annunki, venomous.

Superman exhaled intermediately, catching the cloud of green gaseous poison and driving it back into the face of the Officer.

The Narga immediately shook and writhed, Superman hoped this was more in surprise than discomfort, surely the beast to be immune to it's own venom? He thought.

A shot hissed past him and another whipped into his cloak.

Turning the Man of Tomorrow aimed a blast of heat vision at the barrel of the offending gun.

It was effective, more effective than he'd bargained for, as the gun exploded sending the Reptilian tumbling backwards.

Superman quickly scanned the fallen the Narga, injured the creature was still breathing.

It had not been his intention to ignite the weapon, nor hurt the Officer Narga, but there was so many unknowns here. Both in terms of the creatures biology and their technology. Superman would think about this a great length, but that would come later, now was not the time.

He flew backwards, allowing his caped to billow around him, still holding the reptilians leader. The man of Steel dropped to cave floor with the chief aggressor in hand, and brought him face to the ground before his allies.

The Chief aimed his gun at the leading Narga, who froze on the ground before the smaller warriors.

There was an odd impasse, a silence. Both sides waited. The Narga's resistance crumbled.

The Mole-men sensing their victory acted, moving in their characteristic simian fashion and at great speed, the small velvet warriors surrounded the stunned and confused Narga, aiming their guns at the reptilians.

They sang at the Narga, it was only the briefest of stanza's, enough of their enemies language to elicit a response of surrender.

For the Man of Tomorrow it was dicey moment. Would the Mole-men shoot the invaders dead. Superman did not wish that, but again he had no idea what rules of war existed in the subterranean world, what was considered legal and just among these peoples.

However he was gladdened to see the Narga's surrender was complete, and the Mole-men appeared magnanimous given the sudden and unexpected victory that Superman had given them. Soon the defeated reptilians were herded together and penned together in a hollow in the rock of the greater cavern.

The tunnelling creature was in turn rounded up, prodded with barrels of the Mole-man's guns, it was encouraged away, it's intelligence seemed to be limited to that of a domestic animal, like some strange sort of horse or cow. It seemed no worse for being shot.

What was clear to Superman was that the newly cut tunnel created by this amazing creature lead into the reptilians underworld.

The Mole-man Chieftain now looked upon him with even greater admiration. Superman, settled beside the furry warrior.

"I can see the Narga's place."

"How see, it far."

"I see far. I see through rock." Superman explained not for the first time.

On this occasion the Mole-men seemed willing to finally believe him.

"I will go there now."

"You attack them?"

"Perhaps."

"You take your woman from them?"

"Yes."  
"There will be much fighting. We will come."  
"I'm going now." Superman said firmly.

The Mole-man Chief folded his arms, and said nothing; indeed Superman thought, what was there to say.

Waving them goodbye, the Man of Steel plunged down the newly carved tunnel towards the Narga's vast underground settlement.


	42. Chapter 42

Darkness gave way to light. Superman had found the territory of the Narga. The Man of Steel exercised caution, pausing to take stock, to examine this subterranean kingdom. From a cave opening perched high in a cliff like wall, the Man of Tomorrow could see the largest underground vault that he had yet encountered in the subterranean world.

At the heart of the great cavern was a large body of water, an island lay at it's centre. The Lake drained into rivers that meandered this vast cave. Superman searched the scene before him.

At first glance the vault-scape was not unlike a city at night; darkness lit by pinpricks of light - Light trees dotted the cave and encircled the dark water. Lesser luminescent organisms grew every where, and over everything. The flora and fauna of the underworld lived beside, on and within any structure, artificial or natural.

Superman's split second impression of the Narga's world was one of chaos.

Striking were their tallest buildings; stepped pyramidal structures that dominated the city-scape, and then the way underworlds living things covered everything reminded him of the fabled cities of the Amazon - overgrown and lost. It was all strangely alien.

As Superman focused deeper he could see that this initial suggestion of chaos was inaccurate; the city was not over grown – rather there was both control and order. There was a relationship between the city and the living things of the subterranean world. The plants-like life that grew intertwined around the buildings and caves were all either fruiting, or light giving, or both; all served a purpose.

Fractions of second after his arrival the Man of Tomorrows 'x-ray' vision revealed as many if not more, chambers and tunnels dug under the rock floor as there were buildings on it. Teaming with life the cavern was home to many underworlders, it was for want of better word an underground city.

Seeing the Narga Warriors in their homes the Man of Tomorrow scanned the vault floor further. Below a group of humans were at work, immediately his attention shifted to where these people were tending field gardens. Superman looked among them for the Winston's, but saw neither Kate or her children. Quickly he continued this search for more humans within the city-complex itself.

Seconds past, and the Man of Tomorrow face appeared grave; He listened to the people as they worked in the soil of field-gardens. They spoke in stunted and often whispered exchanges. It was a eclectic mixture of Spanish, English, and a smattering of Native American words along with others he did not recognise.

Among them was a well fed man who did not work, he carried a staff, which he used to emphasize the commands he occasionally barked. Superman's expression became graver still. The overseer was dressed in a similar fashion to the Annunki reptilians, in a long cream robe.

As he listened to the workers below, Superman continued to search visually. His long held suspicions were confirmed when a group of nine tall feathered reptilians climbed onto the flat roof area of one of the tallest and grandest step pyramid like buildings. Nine of them stood together, seven or so feet tall, their porcelain skin was myriad of tiny scales, flecked with gold, their mane of yellow a fine down of long soft feathers.

These were the creatures Hepheastus had called Annunki;and Superman was certain the Narga, like the humans in the fields were the tall reptilians servants.

Superman had only been in their world for a few seconds, but fortune favours the brave and his arrival now coincided with a strange display of Annunki power.

At the caverns heart, lay the island set in dark lake. Here a strange device engaged.

Superman hearing this switched his focus across to the island. The rocky outcrop contained a hidden chamber the roof to which now opened. Concealed within was a large crystalline object of truck sized dimensions, and its egg shaped profile came in to view as the device was lifted up out of the ground.

The crystal was attached to the body of a metal statue, one cast in the shape a spider. It was mounted as the arachnid's abdomen, and the spider statue had been cast crouching - appearing to thrust this crystal abdomen upwards and upright. Slowly the elevator mechanism raised this strange assembly out into the open.

The Annunki stood together observing this from their vantage point on the shore, they showed no emotion or movement.

On the island the spider's crystal 'abdomen' opened almost flower like, revealing an interior alive with crackling blue white light. Then the fingers of crystal began to spin, and electrical discharges like lightening emerged crackling into the twilight of the vault above.

And as the spider crystal glowed it fed the blue white electric discharge into a single point, high above the island, and at that place the disc grew.

It was like nothing Superman had every seen, beginning as pin prick of light it expanded into a purple swirl laced with vivid green – growing wider by the second. This vortex span, it's purple green light a nausea inducing kaleidoscope of mismatched colour, electrical discharge crackled around it. The huge subterranean spider device itself spun on, its crystal spinneret whirling, and from it's translucent fingers ran the webbing of blue lightening arcing upwards to where the vortex continued to grow exponentially.

The Vortex span away from the island and out towards the shore, but about midway between these two points the purple green vortex sunk from it's path above the lake until the swirling wheel was plunged into dark subterranean sea; and with a mighty hiss the disc began to sink beneath the surface of the lake. Like hot metal into water, the spinning disc frothed and boiled into the black waters until it was immersed.

The disc although submerged was still very visible as intensity of the coloured lights of the spinning Vortex actually became more intense.

Superman watched.

Amidst the steam and lightening; within the garish unnatural colours - something appeared. A metal prow painted a dull naval grey slipped impossibly from out of the flat surface of the vortex and into the subterranean sea.

As if it appearing from out a looking glass, so was the arrival of the submarine into the dark water.

Superman recognised the unmistakable profile of a Kriegsmarine U-boat. He saw that it was accompanied by a torrent of salt water, and almost like a cork it burst out into the air of the cave. Through the submerged spinning portal, the boat of war broke through and onto the surface of the lake.

Once the feared wolf of the sea had arrived in full, the reptilians hastily dialled back the power to the spider-crystal-device, it's spinnerets began to slow, and fold, so the feed of electric blue lightening ceased and the submerged portal closed, the Lake ceased to froth and boil.

Superman stared into the belly of the metal the U-boat, and it came as no surprise to him when the conning tower hatch opened. SS officers climbed out into the half light of the Underworld. The submarines engines engaged and the U-boar turned towards the stone carved docks of the Annunki's city. Superman smelled the fumes of it's diesel engines as the exhaust gases entered the air of the vault.

The Nazi officers uniforms were clean and pressed for their arrival, but the unshaven faces of the German's bore testament to day's at sea in the cramped submarine.

What kind of unholy alliance is this? Superman thought.

As he looked he listened widely. The Man of Tomorrow heard the signs of life all around him, but the cavern being an enclosed space had a unique acoustic profile, and all this made the process of analysing each sound more difficult. The young Clark Kent had learned how to tune into noise, to locate and to individually follow a single voice or tone, capable of recognising an engine note, even a heart beat over great distances, but this had all been in the open air.

This was why when Superman heard a human foot fall. The Man of Tomorrow felt disappointed in himself for not having placed the man's location more accurately. The cave he had chosen as his vantage point was sited high in the wall of the vast open underworld vault, but it was not isolated. As with every cave in the vault it was connected via a complex system of tunnels to other smaller chambers and eventually to the ground level of the main space of the city.

A man came from one of these tunnels, perhaps he too sought a a good place to observe the U-boats arrival. Whatever his reasons he had stumbled upon Superman.

The Man of Steel turned to meet him. The underworlder was clearly an Overseer, he wore the long enveloping gown that mirrored those worn by the Annunki.

Although he was some distance away from the cave mouth the underworlder saw the caped man quite clearly, the light from the main chamber illuminating the red and blue clothes of the stranger. The Overseer gasped and turned to run, his first foot tensing, pushing him forward. Yet before his other foot could strike the floor, before he had even take one step he felt Superman's hand close around his mouth, stifling his warning cry before it was full formed.

The Metropolis Marvel brought the man around to face him, holding the struggling wretch against the unyielding rock of the cave, Superman with his free hand pressed his finger to his lips hoping the other would recognise the meaning of the gesture.

Taking his hand from the Overseer's mouth Superman waited for a reaction. First tucking his hand into his sleeves the man struck an authoritative pose, this was followed by the sing song language Superman recognised as belonging to the Annunki, but sung with a human accent for want of better description; unfortunately the words meant nothing to him.

The man seemed to guess he was not being understood. He frowned at the Man of Steel.

Superman realised he failed a test of some sort, because the Overseer now dived at the man of steel, his eyes fixed and wide, his fists flying - a sudden and intense madness came over him. Something bizarre was occurring, and Superman did not have time to determine how and why. Wanting to impress on the man that violence was pointless he permitted the first blow to land.

To Superman's surprise the fist hit him hard, very hard in human terms; nothing to worry the Man of Steel, but his assailant had punched him with such force that the bones of the underworlder's hand snapped. Superman rolled to alleviate the blow, while reaching outwards to counter the next punch - catching the man's other fist before he shattered that hand too. Again the Man of Tomorrow judged the force of this second blow to be beyond human norms. The Overseer did not relent. The man was incredibly bringing his shattered hand back into play, driving the already badly broken fist at Superman.

Turning away the caped man was forced to knock the underworlder senseless; the man of flesh of blood seemed determined to pound the Man of Steel with all his strength; even if that meant serious injury. He was a man possessed, apparently without any feelings of fear or pain.

Superman checked the Overseer over, besides his hand he seemed in good health, what was extraordinary however were the two metal close fitting bracelets he wore around each wrist, each extending up the lower half of his forearms.

Superman habitually scanned them and the design his 'x-ray' vision revealed stunned the Man of Tomorrow, and quickly an idea began to form in his mind that might explain the strange and self destructive behaviour of the underworlder. Memorising the detail of these odd wrist ornaments, Superman considered his next move.

He had to find out more about this strange world. He had to locate Kate Winston.

Added to his troubles was the incredible vortex machine he seen in operation. It was some sort transportation device, one that moved a submarine from open water to the subterranean world. The discovery that the Nazi's clearly had some sort of relationship with these Annunki was grave news. Given this surprising turn of events Superman decided on subterfuge.

He estimated the robed man would remain unconscious for a number of hours, long enough for him to find out more about this strange society. Taking the Overseer's robe Superman covered his own clothes. With a single leap the Man to Tomorrow moved from out the cave too fast for the human eye to see, and alighted below.

Once on the ground he turned to his boots, the vibrant red was too obvious under the pale creams of the Overseer's robe.

Superman improvised. Grabbing a dark looking fruit from the branches of one the plant-like bushes beside him, he applied it's flesh to the surface of his boots, they took on a dull hue, the sticky juices attracting dirt, and Superman stamped his feet, the resulting dust camouflaged his boots further.

Satisfied his disguise was a good as it could be Superman crossed to where the human field workers were busy tilling the sparse subterranean soil.

These workers wore simple smocks; worn, patched, and stained, these clothes told their own story, as did the lean physique of the labourers, male and female alike. The Man of Tomorrow suspected a tradition of yesterday was being played out in this deep and isolated realm; slavery.

Superman had chosen this field because there was currently no Overseer at this location to challenge him. The Overseers appeared to walk from field to field, covering a number of teams.

Superman moved through the workers, they were tending strange plants – something closely related to fungus his microscopic vision told him. The men and women ignored him, they worked on - heads down toiling in the strange earth. Each did their best to avoid looking at him, their eyes only flickering upwards ever so briefly as he passed by. He could hear their breathing and heart rates accelerate, he smelt fear, and detected rage, in this robe Superman was identified as an oppressor.

Searching the group he settled on one young man, his pulse was steady. "How is it that you come to be here?" Superman asked.

The young man's face looked up at the Man of Steel blankly, Superman wondered whether he had failed to reproduce some nuance of the accent he copied.

"Maestro. I was born here." The youth replied cautiously. His eyes darted up at tall dark haired man, counter questions suppressed.

Superman examined the youths arm, he too wore strange bracelets on both wrists, a different design to those warn by the Overseer, however in other ways they were very alike, the cylinders were not ornamental, but something else entirely.

Taking the youths arm Superman asked. "Tell me about these." He pointed to the wide bracelet.

"My shackles are happy Maestro."

Superman shook his head. His suspicions had been confirmed, the term 'shackles' told him all he needed to know. These gauntlets, like those worn by the Overseer whose robe he had taken, were not really metal. Rather they were alive. There was no other way for the Man of Steel to describe what he saw. These devices were living tissue sandwiched between tough shells. A metal cage was woven through both, or rather, Superman suspected the biological structure had been grown around the shaped metal like a rose bush might be trained around a metal trellis.

Disturbingly Superman saw a growth extended from the gauntlets into the body of the youth. He had seen the self same thing when he had examined the Overseer in the cave.

Superman released the boy, and said. "Have you seen a new comer to this place. A woman and two children, two boys?"

The youth immediately appeared agitated. "I don't see anything but my work Maestro."

Superman nodded. He could hear the boy's heart beginning to race. He was terrified.

Turning to the workers, Superman said directly. "Has anyone here seen this woman and her children?"

The people stopped work, they were both nervous and unsure of themselves. Finally a voice called out to him, not from the field but from pathway that ran alongside it.

An old man shuffled towards him; beckoning him to come over.

Superman glanced around him, the slaves seemed relieved to be able to return to work such was their fear, and this angered the Man of Steel.

The old man took a seat on a rock. "My bones must rest Maestro, heh. You won't know what it is to be old."

"Where is your staff Maestro?" He asked.

Superman frowned. It was true the Overseers he had seen had been carrying staffs, he did not, but neither had the man in the cave who had supplied his disguise. Equally Superman reasoned that man had not been going about the business of overseeing.

The old man coughed. "I don't know your face Maestro, and I know all the Overseer's in this place.

"That means you are not from this place." It was accusation, gently put, but an accusation non the less. Then with hope filled eyes the old man asked. "You are from the surface – aren't you?"

Superman considered this. There was little point denying what was apparently obvious.

"Yes I am."

"AH!" The man laughed. " I knew it – I knew it." He declared to himself.

"Sir. What is your name?"

"Of course." The old man nodded. "Let us speak like Americans.

"I am Leonard Burns, and I was younger than you I wager when I found myself lost in this pit of hell.

"What is your name?"

"I'm called Superman."

Rourke looked puzzled. "Odd name you got there son, but look at me calling anything odd. Look at this place."

"Yes. It is incredible.

"You know Mr Rourke, I've read your journal. You lived with the Mole-men right?"

"The Mole-men?" Rourke smiled. "Ahhh you mean the furries! Yes that I did.

"Guess you've come across them eh?

"Heck, they were good to me really, although at the time I didn't see it, hell I'd have been a better guest if I'd known about these snake heads."

Rising to his feet, the old man gestured for Superman to walk alongside him.

"We will attract less attention this way." He explained.

"Yes I was determined to try and return to the surface, so I left the Furries in search of a way out, they tried to caution me against exploring - in there own way, but despite my best efforts they seemed to regard me more as a child to be disciplined – with a firm hand I might add, than an equal.

"Never the less they were trying to keep me from making the mistake I gladly made."

"The Annunki found you?"

"How do you know that name?" Rourke demanded. He appeared startled.

"I have encountered their kind underground before, in California as it happens." The Man of Steel replied matter of factly.

Rourke for the first time became uneasy.

"Who are you really?" He asked directly. "And what is your interest in the Woman and her children?"

"They are the family of a friend, and I am here to rescue them, and I mean to rescue you all."

"Rescue? You mean take us back to the surface?" Rourke seemed overcome.

Superman reached out and grabbed his arm, the old man seemed very frail suddenly.

Rourke steadied himself "How many of you are there?" He asked.

Superman smiled and replied. "Enough."

They had walked into an area where a collection of buildings was arranged. The old man now looked around him fearfully.

"You don't understand, the Snake heads have machines and creatures..." he struggled to express himself. He held up his wrists. "These are not decorations."

Superman nodded. "I know they are not. Tell me – what do they do."  
"They bring pain." Rourke replied weakly.

"Yes I guessed as much. I have seen there is inside them. There is a venom sack attached to stingers."

Rourke stepped away. "You are testing me Maestro." He stated.

Superman denied his accusation. "I am who I say I am." He added quietly. "There are two of the smaller reptilians coming this way."

Rourke looked around. "My eyes are not as good as they were son. I'll believe you. We have nothing to fear from them, they are little better than us in this place."

Superman waited, in due course the reptilians emerged from a side street, and turned away from them along the path.

Superman concluded that here in this region of the Underworld there was a clear caste system. The smaller lizard men, the Narga, seemed to be the servants of the larger Annunki..

As he and Rourke walked together Superman was probing the city, searching for the Professors lost family. "I do need to know where the Annunki have taken my friend's wife and his children.

"Is there another place where they hold people captive."

"Here? - or in the Earth? They say there are many places like this."

"Superman frowned. "I was speaking of this place, but I take it you mean this is not the only Annunki city."

Again Rourke winced when Superman spoke that name, but he nodded, before turning onto a path that led further into the subterranean town.

Superman followed cautiously. "Where are we going."

Rourke shifted nervously, his craggy features were exaggerated under the odd light of underworld, under the glow of the plant-like life, he looked truly ancient."It is better we appear to move with a purpose, it is better not to draw attention to ourselves by idling standing talking."

Superman followed, he could tell by Rourke's heart rate that the old man was scared. He said cautiously. "I have heard it said there are many subterranean chambers deep in the earth, not just in America, but all over, perhaps that should be under, the world."

Rourke nodded, he talked and walked, leading them down a narrow street.

"Yes that is what I have been told, but I have not seen them."

"Could my friends family have been moved on? I have seen the vortex device, do the Annunki use that to transport people great distances?"

Rourke stopped and he appeared really scared. "Look stranger, if your people are here, the woman – her children, then they are in the Grand Ground House – all new men and women are taken their first."

"Where is that?"

"Here, down there." Rourke jabbed his finger at the pavement. He explained. "The Grand Ground House... it is like a fort but instead of building up the... they... dug down into the rock."

Superman again scanned the city, probing deeper. As he concentrated, looking in the knowledge that something should be there, he began to discern the outline of the vast hidden complex.

It was shielded by a strange energy. With great determination Superman penetrated this barrier; and the Grand Ground House came into focus.

As he looked systematically through it's many chambers he came across four metal vaults. Lead shielding made these armoured rooms impenetrable to him, and given his search had not yet revealed the Winston's, Superman suspected the only way forward was a more hands on approach - beginning with these vaults.

Rourke poked him. "What is wrong my friend."

"Sorry I was lost in thought." Superman replied.

Rourke shook his head sadly, and his heart rate leapt again. Approaching them were two of the ruling caste, the tall pale Annunki.

Superman stepped back easing into the shadows; not wanting to attract their attention.

The older man however ran forward, and out of his his mouth Rourke screamed a dreadful cry, hoarsely in the alien language of the feathered reptilians, he gave Superman up.

The Man of Steel sighed sadly. Rourke had betrayed him. Superman waited for the Annunki to react.

Leaping forward the reptilians closed in, the first attacked by spitting venom directly into his face.

Superman had been here before, enclosed within a strange force field and exposed to the combined poison of nine of these feathered reptilians. He knew he was able to resist their venom, but on this occasion he made a split second decision to play things differently.

Superman could see the creature's poison was less concentrated than before, therefore less toxic, simply because there were far fewer droplets in the fine mist the Annunki exhaled at him. It occurred to Superman that these Annunki were holding back, they were not trying to kill him, rather they meant to subdue him. The Venom also had a short life in the open air, and the mist rapidly evaporated, losing it's potency.

The Man of Steel decided to play possum and sank to his knees, collapsing at the Annunki's feet. Superman began faking unconsciousness.

The creatures spoke briefly to Rourke in their sing song tongue, then as Superman waited he heard a distinctive musical call sound out. This he could see summoned the Narga.

Once the smaller subservient reptilians had him in there grasp the Man of Steel allowed them to carry him away.

-'S'-

The day of Themyscira's Tournament beckoned, the Amazonian island was shrouded in darkness, but the great Stadia was lit by bright fire. Women from every corner of their land now came to the Stadium, each eagerly awaited the dawn.

Hippolyta walked with her General. They left the chambers within the Great Stadia and onto the stage of Royal box above the games Arena. The Queen found herself looking past the last minute preparations, searching the crowds. She looked for Diana but her daughter was not to be seen.

As the first light of the new day glistened across the waves, trumpets sounded and above Themyscira's Stadium long colourful banners of fluttering cloth were unfurled.

The Stadia itself stood as a testament to the industry and technical prowess of Amazonian culture, able to seat every subject of the Queen's island nation. The Stadia was scrupulously maintained, and stood ever ready.

With the dawn comes Tournament, the Amazon's ready set to begin; all now waited for the Queen's command.

"Have you seen my daughter?" Hippolyta finally asked Phillipus.

"No my Queen. I have not seen her for a week, not since... she came to the Temple of Athena."

"Neither have I." Hippolyta said wistfully.

Phillipus was not surprised by this. It was her duty to know these things "Do you wish her found?"

Hippolyta waved a dismissive hand. "Diana is holed up in her laboratory, nursing this man who will certainly die." The Queen sighed heavily. "Even when showing Amazonian compassion she seems to defy me."

"The Princess is wilful." The General stated.

Hippolyta voiced her conclusion."Diana is avoiding me, and avoiding this. I wonder how long she will hate me for forbidding her to compete."

"The Princess will come to understand the wisdom of your decision." Phillipus observed.

Hippolyta watched the weapons being stacked ready for the trials, as before them the field of combat was made ready. "I hope so." She said quietly.

Before the Queen is the Arena. Its surface is dry golden sand. The open area is a oblique circle, it's circumference bounded by a high wall, above that in the classical tradition rises terraces of stepped seats. The principle entrance to the Arena is an arched gate that supports the Royal box.

The Arena is crowded with the ready and the able, the seats above the assembled women are sparsely occupied. Hippolyta expected nothing less, a nation of faithful Amazons and loyal sisters are ready to fight for the right to be called Champion of Themyscira.

Sunlight strikes the fluttering banners high above them. Torches flicker in the early morning breeze. Hippolyta breathes deeply, her frown vanishes; she looks up and smiles. The Queen walks forward to balustrade. She greets the expectant crowd.

The Queen raises her hands aloft, he voice amplified by Amazonian ingenuity.

"We are a race of warriors. We are Amazon. We live moment by moment, ever patient and ever vigilant.

"Centuries of tradition, years upon years of training, have brought you all here once more.

"Practice and above all mental concentration is our discipline, and competition among us is common place, but this is not an everyday game, this is Tournament.

"Athena herself has summoned you here, I stand only as a mouthpiece.

"Sisters, this is not simply a matter of life and death for you and I, it is more important even than Themyscira.

We are a race who are to all intents and purposes immortal, among us the title of Champion means to be first among the best of the best.

To be Champion means to be anointed the greatest Amazonian. An honour above all other accolades, but with such a great honour comes a greater responsibility; not just to this Island and to our Sisterhood, but to the Earth herself."

Hippolyta, lowers her arms, that is the signal so many have waited for, and a great cheer rings out from the Arena; Tournament day has begun.

The air is electric with excitement and expectation. The tension is tangible.

On the sand of the Arena lots are drawn from large ornate vessel. Each competitor draws a numbered token; it is a number they will keep for the duration of the competition. The bouts making up each successive rounds are randomly assigned on the basis of these numbers. Winners go forward, the losers are eliminated. The process is overseen by the Royal Guard; Phillipus's soldiers act as referees for the initial matches.

These are fast and furious wrestling bouts; the woman are undressed as is the norm for Greek Athletes. They begin by holding each other in an embrace, and until the word is given to begin, they stand as still as statues.

The aim is simple – one must wrestle the other to the ground. The close hold must be maintained throughout, if it breaks the competitors must stop and begin again. Simply if any part of a competitors body - save her feet - touches the ground, she is beaten. The loser retires immediately, for them there remains only the role of spectator.

It is a quick and long standing method of winnowing down the field, leaving the strong and talented. The first of the wrestling winners step up to take the place of the referees, should a Guards-woman's number be called.

Trust is everything. No Amazon is expected to show favour or bias, and this allows Philipus's Warriors to enter the contest. By mid morning the field has been halved, the losers begin to fill the terraces, while the winners ready themselves for the next round.

Open handed combat follows. Barefooted and bare-fisted the combatants dance around each other. This sport is more complex, there is greater room for movement, and more ways to win. Here victory comes with either a submission resulting from a hold, or a knock-out blow. This round is also more brutal – as submission is rare, pain often bringing about unconsciousness before a proud Amazon warrior can bring herself to relent. Many during this second round will not be able to retire directly to the terraces and watch the remainder of the Tournament. Losing often means injury, and as the bouts begin so does the evacuation of the wounded to the Temple of Asclepios, to bathe in Purple rays of the great crystal amethyst.

Among the Physicians Althea works setting bones and preparing the flesh so broken and torn bodies heal properly and cleanly.

Diana waits unrecognised for her turn. She had won through to the unarmed combat round quickly, dispatching her wrestling opponent easily, as had many others - short matches were common enough in the first round.

Wearing the Proteus mask rendered the Princess almost invisible, not one of her sisters recognised her; in fact save the common pleasantries good manners dictate between Amazons, her sisters largely ignore her. For someone who was always recognised, always the centre of attention, it was a strange almost liberating experience.

Themyscira's youngest Amazon had at the last moment almost relented. Diana had almost forgone this competition. Just one night's sleep after five days and five nights of research and experiment, even to her this seemed a crazy thing to do; but the Proteus Mask was a gift from the gods - from the hand of Hermes, so Magala had told her.

Diana reflected the nature of Themyscira, chosen and set apart by the gods, hidden for over two millennia from man's world; so it was when the gods command, their Amazon's responded.

Diana had felt the weight of that obligation, she felt it now, personified in the mask she wore, even sleep deprived as she was Diana knew she must compete.

These were the contradictions that defined them; freedom yet subservience, a peaceful, tranquil paradise where the daily clash of weapons could be heard. Immortals practising – making ready for games with life threatening consequences.

This was Themyscira. This was Tournament. The cry goes up, and the drums beat as if for war.

The Amazon acting as Referee; a Guards-woman called Chrysippe indicates to Diana that she should come forward, by calling out her alloted number "eight" and that of her opponent. "one hundred and twelve"

Chrysippe nods to Diana's opponent, between them there passes the briefest of acknowledgements, both are soldiers, Aeta was another of Philippus's Officers. Diana in turn receives the blankest of looks, then a curt nod, before Chrysippe calls out. "Begin."

Diana and her opponent begin the dance. Mirroring each other, walking slowly around the circle in the sand, weighing each other up as the move.

One hundred and twelve strikes first, her hand draws back to punch, but this is just a feint to allow her to hide her shifting balance, Aeta leg launches upwards in a sweeping blow, she spins in the sand aiming for Diana's head.

Diana sees all this coming, it seems almost pedestrian, she taunts fate, disappointed in her opponents utterly transparent attack.

Diana waits until the last split second, then she dives under the blow. One hand falls to the sand while she counter kicks low. Her foot strikes her opponent hard in the soft of her belly, Aeta falls back."

Phillipus watches the same series of events play out. She sees Aeta ready her punch, and is pleasantly surprised by the Warriors clever feint, the upward kick comes, Competitor Eight stands still as if oblivious. Then everything changes.

No, thinks the General, Eight hasn't felled her, she has propelled her. One hundred and twelve flies back, falling outside the ring - literally a line drawn in the sand, and Aeta bounces sliding into an neighbouring bout, causing this fight to stall.

One hundred and twelve tries to stand, but Aeta only manages to fall outside this ring. She moans grasping her middle. Alerted a Physician rushes across the hot arena to her aid, seeing her pain they pass a gold and crystal jewelled device of Amazonian design across Aeta's abdomen, images in the stone reveal to the Doctor the internal condition of the fallen Amazon. Diana stands isolated and waits anxiously.

"Her spleen is ruptured." The Doctor tells Chrysippe. "She needs to be taken to the Temple double quick, she is haemorrhaging massive amounts of blood." They quickly summon help.

"Eight." The referee from the other bout jabs Diana. "Eight. Move on, didn't you hear Chrysippe's call you've won."

Diana nods, instinctively turning her face away.

"That was an impressive finish, if a little brutal." The Amazon said as she turned back to her attention back to restarting her bout.

General Phillipus felt the heat of the sun in Arena, the hot sand felt good under her feet. What had she been thinking? Phillipus thought, something seemed to slip her mind.

The dark skinned soldier watched Diana walk away to the Arena wall. Mean while Amazonian Medics evacuated Competitor One hundred and twelve. "Atanea," Phillipus said to her companion. "I did not think our Captain Aete would fall so quickly."

"Aye. Downed to ground with one blow, did you see the speed with which Competitor Eight moved? I swear General it was like Eight was standing as still as statue one moment, and the next Aete was on the ground, and Eight with her leg gently returning to the sand."

Phillapus nodded while a worried frown crossed her brow. "Who is Eight?" The General looked hard at Diana, who was leaning against the cool Arena wall.

"Oh, I'm not sure. Perhaps with her hair tied back she looks different? That must be reason." Atanea replied. "For I too am not sure, of course the sun must be in my eyes."

"Hey Chrysippe, do you know Eight?" Atenea asked her fellow Guards-woman who had refereed Diana's match with Atea. "Of course, I mean how could you not know her, Great Hera did you see that kick!"

"Yes." Phillipus said. "Incredible." She found herself drawn to watch the outcome of the recently restarted bout, the two women were evenly matched. As the fight proceeded they became bloodied and bruised but neither was ready to give in."

For a brief moment Phillipus felt something was out of place, something she could not remember. Then it was forgotten as the fight turned against one and in the favour of the other, who fell hard on top of her opponent, pinning her to the sand, wrapping her arm around her sisters neck, she began squeezing, holding firm until the other woman passed out."

Diana stood alone, ignored, she looked down at her right arm, the symbol ηʹ – the Greek letter indicating the number eight. She had won, and gained the right to enter the next round.

The Proteus Mask was everything Magala had sworn it was. Phillipus had watched her defeat Aeta, and looked right through her as if she were a perfect stranger.

Aeta, poor Aeta, Diana could not understand what had happened. She had been so certain the overconfident warrior had been playing with her, she seemed to move so slowly, and yet no one else had seen what Diana had seen, to them it had been Competitor Eight who had moved like the wind and brought down with one of the Royal Guards most effective fighters.

It must be the mask Diana told herself, it made sense to her, that was the difference – the gods must really want me to be their Champion.

Far above the Arena the Sorceress Magala stood on the uppermost tier of the Stadia. She was alone, the crowds were pressed together nearer the action on the sand of the Arena.

The old woman spoke apparently to thin air. "My Lord, she has won again, and won easily. It seems Diana has no idea yet how powerful she is."

Hermes shimmered beside the Sorceress, invisible to all eyes but hers. "Aye, I hear her thoughts. She thinks she is winning today because of the Mask."

"Sire, should I correct her mistake?" Magala asked.

"No child. Today it does not matter how the girl believes her victories come about, but only that they do.

"When the time is right, I have a message for Diana, Princess of Themyscira; a revelation. That time is not today however. Let today be today, and tomorrow will take care of itself."

-'S'-

Down through the Earth, the Annunki led their underlings, carrying their burden, into their subterranean fortress. Superman hung limply allowing the two Narga to carry him, his deception undetected.

The Man of Tomorrow noted as they wandered deeper into the Grand Ground House the ambient temperature had increased, he thought the lizards must prefer this warmth, seeping as it did from the Earth molten core.

The walls in this subterranean fortress were not rock, but the same metallic shell like material used in wrist bands worn by the human captives; and behind it he saw similarly living tissue sandwiched in between these hard outer layers.

In time they brought him to a holding area. The smaller reptilians deposited him within a cell, and stripped him of his borrowed Overseer's robe.

They clamped a pair of gauntlets around his wrists. The devices almost immediately attacked his forearms, vainly trying to puncture his invulnerable skin. Superman continued to pretend he was unconscious. He was left alone.

The Man of Tomorrow could tell that these cages often held human beings. He could smell the mammalian scent, distinct from that of his captors.

Getting to his feet the caped man considered his options. The Winstons were nowhere to be seen. The lead lined vaults remained a mystery; he wondered to himself, what reason would the Annunki have to place a woman and children in one of those?

Standing the Man of Steel approached the bars of his cage, ready to test their metal; but before he brought the house down another Annunki entered.

The creature raised it's golden feathers that usually fell away from it's face, in a bird like gesture it cocked it's head to one side. Superman considered it appeared startled. An assumption the creature confirmed. In English the Annunki spoke to him directly, it was an odd accent, the reptilian still sang the words more than it spoke them.

"Ah. You are awake already. How surprising. I would have expected you to be out for some time."

The Annunki carried a tablet, and with a pen like stylus made symbols – what could only be writing onto it's surface. "I suppose you are a quick witted one, held your breath did you? Ingested less venom?"

"You could say that." Superman replied honestly.

"Yes – you are a smart one. You must be. To have travelled so far to reach this place. Your clothes are interesting – what is this, some special caving garb, it must be very durable. Interesting. Your kind seems to be taking great strides forward at the moment. That is to be expected. Most species do in the period immediately before their extinction."

Superman did not know how to interpret that statement.

Casually the Annunki opened the cage. "Well since you are awake I don't see any point in delaying our little talk.

"Incidentally." It added. "You will notice that we've added cuffs to your wrists, I believe the human Rourke explained there purpose to you."

"He did." Superman replied.

"Good. Then I need not. Please no heroics. I find it tiresome; and only delays my work."

Superman followed the Annunki. They walked deeper into the complex, directly towards the lead lined vaults. As this served Superman objectives, he decided to have a little talk of his own with the reptilian as they walked.

"What do they call you?" He asked.

"How I am called – really there is no need to know; since I am the only Lord and Master with whom you will speak.

"Since you are new to this place, and I am kind of heart, I will not punish you."

"Punish me?"

"You must never speak to a Lord and Master without first being spoken too. You must have our permission to speak – which you do _not_."

Superman walked on, biding his time. The Annunki was taking him to exactly where he wanted to be.

The Chamber they entered was large and furnished with strange mechanisms. At it's heart four lay the four metal vaults. Superman was reminded of the containers on Metropolis docks, although these were larger and wider again.

The Man of Tomorrow had examined the Grand Ground House in close detail. The nature of the creatures science, was largely biological, somehow they had bred, grown, moulded life in this subterranean world. Where mankind engineered machines, the Annunki engineered life.

The tall reptilian told him to wait as he approached the dials and switches mounted upon one of the walls.

"The Nazi's I saw early arriving by U-boat, do they call you Lord and Master?"

The creature span around, it's feathers fluttered, and it revealed the sharp teeth set in it's wide reptilian mouth as it spoke.

"You fool, have I not been generosity itself." The creature complained. In some way Superman could not recognise it engaged the devices the Narga had attached to his arms. Sharp fangs attempted to pierce his flesh. They failed.

The Man of Steel stood for a moment as his would be Master shifted from surprise to confusion and anger.

"Your gauntlets must be faulty." It snapped.

"I am sure the fault is mine." Superman replied. Adding. "How do you remove these things? I don't think they suit me."

"They cannot be removed. They become one with the wearer." The Annunki replied.

Superman shrugged and grabbing one after the other he fingers moving at super speed – he snapped them apart, pulling them from his skin. The reptilian had been quite accurate in his description – they had fused and grown together in the short time he been wearing the strange organic devices.

Then before his would be captor was able to register the change, Superman dashed to his side, fixing him against the wall.

Immediately the creature exhaled a measured burst of venom.

Superman smacked his lips as the cloud of green mist enveloped him.

"Kind of tastes lemmony."

The creature in his hands gasped. The mist evaporated revealing Superman's warm smile.

"So Birdy, thanks for not trying to kill me – I think.

"Let's start again, do you have a name?"

The creature tried to sing in it's haunting language, Superman applied pressure to it's neck.

"Now come on, don't be stupid."

"Bholandas." The reptilian sang back quickly.

"Now that were are all acquainted Annunki called Bholandas, I'd like to know where is the blonde woman and her children?"

"How?" It spat. "How?"

"The people you took from near the surface – where are they?" Superman prompted the creature.

Bholandas spluttered. "The name Annunki – how do you know this?"

"Shouldn't I know it? Is it some big secret?"

Bholandas blinked rapidly.

"The Ultra Humanite told me" Superman replied. "Adding for good measure "He also calls himself Hephaestus.

"Now I've helped you, how about you tell me about the blonde haired woman, two young children – where are they?"

"You are a Deos?" The creature whispered.

Deos, was Greek. Superman recognised this. "No. I am not a god." He said firmly. "I am Superman."

The Annunki hissed as it's large Opal eyes stared back at the Man of Steel.

"Superman." It said his name quietly. "I have heard of you."

"Really, don't tell me you read the Daily Star?"

"No, but I have been listening to your peoples radio broadcasts for some time, I found it the best way to perfect my knowledge of your crude spoken language."

"Interesting."

"I thought you were some sort of story, the kind your people invent for amusement – you seem to delight in deceiving yourselves." Bholandas observed haughtily.

"So you thought I wasn't real – funny, you know I get that a lot." Superman said. "But as you can now see and feel I am very real! Now tell me what did you do with the woman and her two children. I know you took them from a chamber near the surface."

The Annunki blinked it's large opal eyes, but remained silent.

Superman applied more pressure. "Birdy your bones are not especially dense, they remind me in many ways of the chickens my mother kept on the farm, I think they would break very easily."

"Very well." Bholandas gasped. "The woman you seek... I will show you, she is here."

Superman released the creature. "Okay, no tricks." Superman stood back and gestured. "Lead the way Bholandas." Superman sang back the creatures name perfectly. He saw it's feathers shake. Superman smiled thinking that surprised it. Adding. "Try anything and I'll break you in two."

The Annunki sank back from Superman, and despite it's height Bholandas seemed to slink away from him. The Man of Tomorrow felt a twinge of remorse for using menace to intimidate the creature.

The Annunki scurried over to the lead lined vaults. Where it began my turning dials on what appeared to be a seamless wall.

"What are you doing?" Superman demanded.

"Opening this doorway." The Annunki replied hastily. The Man of Tomorrow thought better of this, he couldn't trust the creature.

Superman moved Bholandas aside. A single intense burst of heat vision cut a hole through the door, penetrating the lead shielding, allowing Superman to check inside, he briefly hesitated. Then acted.

Taking hold of the metal vault door, Superman tore it open. The Annunki made a high pitched cry, jumping away as Superman ripped the heavy door free and lifting it he tossed it clear.

There inside was a very surprised Kate Winston, and clinging to her were the boys. The vault was empty except for a few blankets and pail, the Annunki provided only the barest of essentials for their prisoners.

Superman grabbed hold of the tall reptilian and pushed Bholandas into the vault. The creature seemed unwilling to enter.

"Hello Mrs Winston." Superman said with a broad smile, nodding to the boys.

She came towards him and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank God, thank you, I never thought, oh Superman, I, I,..."

"That's okay." The Man of Steel told her, she released him embarrassed.

The elder boy, Bobbie, Superman remembered accurately said excitedly. "Superman, it's you, it's really you!"

Kate then interrupted. "Barney, how is Barney. Did that robot..."

Superman stopped her. "Barnett is alive, a bit battered and bruised, but he's going to be just fine."

"Oh my word, I thought.., the Robot did you stop it?"

"I did. You don't need to worry about that, the robot is gone." Superman reflected it was neither the time or place to tell Mrs Winston that her husband had in fact been Metalo.

The Annunki extended it's left arm. Bholandas wore a gauntlet also; but of a completely different design to the slaves control devices. " Interesting." the reptilian said. "Adult human called Winston. Your radiation levels have dropped markedly. Remarkably they are falling off as I speak - as you stand talking with this Superman. In fact I would say he seems from these readings to be absorbing the radiation right out of you."

Superman frowned. He had sensed the tell tale sensations of Kryptonite even through the tiny hole he had made in the vault door; it was to be expected Superman reasoned. Kate Winston and her children Bobbie, and Tommy had been exposed to large quantities of green K; certainly for hours, possibly even days. It stood to reason they would be contaminated by Kryptonite energy.

"You found the Radioactive Meteorites." Superman stated looking directly at the Annunki.

"Yes we did." Bholandas said without hesitation. "First we detected the radiation, an energy signature originally both widely dispersed and quickly decaying.

"The readings were unlike anything our people had ever seen; and we've seen a great deal Superman."

"The material is very unpredictable." Superman said coolly. "You'd be advised to drop into the deepest darkest hole you have in this underworld and forget about it." The Man of Tomorrow could feel the effects of the lingering Kryptonite radiation, but that could not be avoided.

Bholandas cocked his head to one side, again making this bird like gesture. "Interesting. Was that what you did Superman?

"Because your chosen hole wasn't that deep was it?"

Superman did not reply to the creatures taunt.

Bholandas said. "It was because this strange material had been gathered into one place that we were able to get a fix on it, and retrieve it."

"They found us in that cave." Kate said coldly. "Funny thing was I was almost grateful, I can tell you were were hungry enough not to care who was feeding us."

Bholandas feathers were ruffled by her interruption. "And when you came here I could barely detect the difference in terms of radioactivity between you and one of those green rocks." The reptilian noted.

Superman wondered not for the first time; how badly the Kryptonite radiation effected Kate and the boys.

Bholandas looked down at the Winston boys. "Your children received a lower dose. I have thought long and hard about that anomaly and I suspect you must have shielded them with your own body.

"I have observed that behaviour in your species." The Annunki did not seem at all troubled by the reversal in his fortunes. Bholandas almost seemed to be trying to make conversation. It was clearly unnerving Kate.

"Now isn't that strange." The Reptilian said turning to Superman. "By my reckoning you seem to absorbing these odd radioactive emanations at a exponential rate. Care to venture a theory Surface Dweller?"

Superman ignored the reptilian. "Come on Kate, I need to get you out of this place."

"Superman this creature has summoned more of his kind!"

Bholandas hissed angrily.

"How do you know?" Superman asked.

Kate looked at him angrily. "I just know." She sighed saying. "They can talk to each other using only their minds, and they control their devices much the same way."

It was Superman's turn to say "interesting."

Bholandas hissed again, the Annuki's feathers extended in anger.

Superman turned and stared into the tunnels beyond the chamber, sure enough the Narga were coming. The Man of Tomorrow could see reptilian guard caste approaching the large chamber, armed and plenty of them.

Thinking; I should have heard so many soldiers coming this way - what else I am missing – it must be the effects of Kryptonite radiation I have absorbed..

"Come on." He said, gesturing to Winstons. "And you too Birdy. Let's get going."

The Annunki sauntered back into the chamber, Bholandas's large Opal eyes flickered back glancing at Superman as the reptilian moved forward.

Seeing the caped man turning away, the reptilian suddenly leapt at Superman, spitting a cloud of venom directly into his face. It was a desperate move, and creature expelled every ounce of poison in it's glands.

Superman's features were enveloped in the dark mist. He shook his head, blinking, as if dazed, then he staggered back.

Superman felt confused, the poison was stinging he eyes, nose and throat. The pain was sudden and intense.

"Interesting." The Annunki said.

Superman lashed out blindly, and sank to the floor kneeling down on one knee. His streaming eyes screwed shut. Bholandas side stepped away warily, keeping his distance.

"Superman!" The Winston children wailed. Kate had bundled them away from the noxious poison– forcing her and boys back into the vault, but even so she and the boys were coughing as wisps of venom reached them.

"Only a short while ago, you were totally immune to my poison." Bholandas said. "But now you exhibit these symptoms? It is strange.

"Of course I emptied my poison sacks, I gave you an excessively lethal dose of venom; probably more than enough to kill a dozen humans; and you still live, but this is a satisfactory reaction I think."

The Annunki circled the Man of Tomorrow. Bholandas talked as if he were undertaking an experiment, not facing down an enemy.

Superman blinked hard – he had to beat this, an army of Narga was about to arrive, and that would make a bad situation worse. His ears told him Kate was at far wall of the vault, he could hear Winston boys were crying, they were scared, she was trying to reassure them. Bholandas was circling him, the reptilian was being careful not to stay in one place.

"I suspected something was amiss." The Annunki said.

"We are very good a reading our prey Superman, and when you began absorbing the radiation from these other humans, you frankly smelled scared, you began to sweat; your heart rate increased - yes very interesting indeed."

Tired of Bholandas's mind games the Man of Steel rose to his feet, and through water filled eyes, with tears running down his cheeks, he faced the reptilian.

Deliberately Superman put himself between the Annunki and the Winstons.

Bholandas moved away. The Man of Tomorrow could make out the shape of the tall creature slinking back across the chamber. He said "Kate – get out of here; run."

"I can't." She said. "I can see the Narga, they are here, oh my God there's hundreds of them!"

Superman moved, gauging the enemies approach largely by the rattling sound their clawed feet made on the polished floor.

Launching himself at the army of pale reptilians he sent the first wave of soldiers flying left and right. As the Narga warriors opened fire with their chemically powered automatic projectile weapons, the bullets rained at him like hail, and ricocheted into their own people.

As Superman rained down controlled incapacitating blows, Narga warriors continued to pour into the chamber like torrent of water, and by shear force of numbers they began overwhelming him, abandoning their useless guns, the reptilians leapt onto and over him, slashing at him with clawed hands and feet, snapping at him with needle teeth. Enveloping Superman in a vast cloud of their bitter venom.

His sight was impaired, and his skin was burning, even holding his breath was not enough, their venom seemed to seep in through the pores. In his weakened state the Narga's poison was hurting him.

Leaping out of their midst Superman rose above the throng, above the green poisonous cloud, but many the enraged reptilians madly grabbing at him hung on, pulling at his cloak, his feet, hanging and climbing around his body, all the time hissing venom.

They fought without hesitation, without reservation. Just as Overseer had done; the man had smashed the bones in his hand and not even blinked.

Superman had worked through the mystery of this to a solution. The gauntlets each wore medicated the Annunki servants, venom for discipline, narcotics to enrage them, turning their soldiers into berserkers, warriors without fear or caution.

Superman span shaking the beasts from him, fighting blind to preserve life at all costs – a difficult fight when the enemy is crazed with blood lust, and willing to die without question.

But Superman knew that his body would recover, and quickly; all that was necessary was for the effects of the Kryptonite radiation to pass.

Diving back to ground he put himself between the advancing rabble of Narga and vault where Kate and boys were trapped. His blurred vision was good enough for him to see the Annunki Bholandas was long gone.

The Narga drove at him, but now he easily knocked them away, with his speed and coordination coming back, the red-blue blur was soon dodging their venom attacks, avoiding the worst of their poison, and at the same time he felt his resistance to it growing.

Then just as the tide was turning, just as the Narga were being beaten back, Superman was hit by a broadside of energy. Nine Annunki entered the chamber, using a concealed entrance the moved into fight, walking together as one, an unholy coven. Superman had seen this act once before - beneath the Mountains of California.

The Man of Steel struggled against the force barrier that enveloped him, the glowing ball of light smashed him against the floor, the metallic shell surface cracked and a sticky ooze bled from the living material beneath.

Superman pushed against the Annunki's energy sphere, driving himself deeper into the floor, into solid rock.

The Annuki closed in, connecting directly with the energy force they appeared to control solely through their collective will. It was strange because what was entirely solid to Superman behaved for them like it were water, and the Annunki now dipped their faces inside the energy field and began exhaling venom into it.

Superman pushed against gravity, forcing the venom filled globe of glowing energy away from him. Suddenly and frustratingly the energy sphere became like a fluid to his touch too and it at once enveloped him, but Superman was feeling more himself again and he shrugged off the poison once more as he began smashing at the energy field with his fists. Immediately he saw the Annunki coven falter. The reptilians were struggling to hold him inside this force field.

Bholandas hung back, keeping away from ensuing the battle, the desperate Annunki researcher had a different agenda. Summoning a unit of Narga to the second vault, Bholandas quickly opened a small hatch in main door. Singing in the Annunki native tongue he commanded one of the troop inside, the Narga without hesitation crawled into vault. Moments later it returned carrying in its hands what appeared to be a irregular ball of lead.

Bholandas sang again, commanding the Narga troop, the reptilians with their weapons at the ready ran towards where the nine Annunki collectively struggled to contain Superman.

The Man of Steel was pushing against the highly distorted energy field, bending it with every punch. The Annunki coven was on their knees, the nine reptilians shook violently as they struggled to hold back the angry Man of Tomorrow.

The Narga with the lead 'ball' ran as best he could at the sphere of energy, as Bholandas had commanded the Narga hurled what it carried into the failing force field. At the same moment the rest of the Narga unit targeted the lead 'ball' with a barrage of automatic fire, shells splashed into the energy field with impunity smashing into the irregular lead covered object, and as it sank inside, the 'ball' shattered under this hail of bullets, exposing fragments of green crystalline kryptonite.

The tables were turned. It was suddenly the caped man who shook and fell to his knees in pain, and the Annunki coven who rose powerfully to their feet. More Narga closed in diving into the energy field spitting venom into the glowing sphere filling it once more with the toxic poison.

Excessively weakened by exposure to Kryptonite Superman incredible metabolism could not resist the venom and he collapsed into unconsciousness.


	43. Chapter 43

Sturmbannführer Erich Brommann, held a rank equivalent to that of a Major in Schutzstaffel – the 'Protective Squadron' – the SS. He and his Lieutenant, Obersturmführer Maximilian Kappler were Sonderkommandos – part of a highly secret operation called Project Ahnenerbe instituted at the highest levels of the Third Riech, overseen by Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler, who reported directly to Hitler himself.

Brommann and Kappler had arrived in this region of the underworld using the infernal device that allowed it's masters the Annunki to open a window in space and time, and move objects across great distances, even a vessel as massive as their U-boat from a point off the coast of United States to this subterranean location.

The two men had come ashore, from the docks they had been escorted into the underground city by a human Overseer. Taken high into one of the city's pyramidal structures they had been placed in a comfortably furnished chamber, with views across the underground vault. Brommann stood looking our across the dark lake, and down at the U-boat moored by the stone dock of the underworld.

Human slaves, accompanied by attendant Narga guard, served the Nazi officers with strange foods, and a sweet dark liquor brewed in the underworld.

"This food is most peculiar." Brommann noted, sampling the dishes laid out on the stone table."

The Major sat down and waited for his hosts to join them. Time passed. He drummed his fingers impatiently beside his plate. "I do not like been kept waiting. These creatures are playing games – and what did you make of that racket coming from the city?" He asked Kappler.

The Lieutenant shrugged. His previous experience with the underworld made him a nominal expert in the eyes of his superiors. "The reptilians warrior caste seemed to be running in great numbers to somewhere."

"For something no doubt." The Major said dryly.

"The ways of this underworld are still a mystery Sir." Kappler replied.

The senior man frowned. "That is very true, let us hope this strange alliance quickly brings some concrete technological benefits."

In due course the Human servants were ushered away by the pale scale skinned Guards. Brommann involuntarily shuddered, he did his best to hide his discomfort, there was within a primeval fear of these snake faced creatures.

Directly a tall and regally dressed Annunki swept into the room, with the reptilian came four of the shorter Narga.

Stiffly the Nazi officers stood to attention. They gave the Annunki a curt nod. Announcing themselves, giving their name and rank.

The Annunki movements were slowly executed, head slightly cocked to one side the tall reptilian bowed shallowly dipping it's shoulders.

"Please sit down Gentlemen." It asked in German, the alien sing song quality to it's voice remained. It's attendant Narga placed a chair at their masters disposal.

"I am Kaydohray." It said, relaxing into it's seat. "May I bid you welcome to our city. I trust you experienced no ill effects after translocation."

"We were told to expect some discomfort."

"I believe translocation effects the inner ear of mammalians" The Annunki said. Adding. "I regret your people must remain your vessel, I can however arrange for their needs to be met."

"Thank you Lord Kaydohray for your hospitality – but our people are well catered for." Brommann replied. "And I can assure you the crew of our boat has no knowledge of our current location, or your existence, as in accordance with our agreement.

The Annunki nodded slowly in acknowledgement.

"I am sure it serves both our purposes to keep our relationship a closely guarded secret." The reptilian stated.

"And we are grateful for the honour and opportunity to be the first men welcomed to this great city of your underworld in the Americas."

"Indeed Major it has been many generations since any of your kind has come to our underworld invited. I trust you understand that we do not do this lightly, we guard our privacy jealously."

"And we respect that. No other Nation on the Earth is better placed than Germany to ensure the sanctity of the underworld is maintained."

"Yes – we are not ignorant of surface politics."

Brommann stated. "Of course Germany will emerge from the war victorious – we are naturally the dominant global power."

"Perhaps victory will not come as easily as you imagine."

The German Major frowned, then laughed. "Perhaps; but that would not be good news for you. While the Third Reich respects the civilisation you have carved out under the Earth; your people know the democracies above would not look upon your science - this way of life you enjoy, with the same clear objective thinking.

"And Sir, if we can discover your existence, then it is only a matter of time before your kind are exposed."

The Annunki feathers flickered.

"Then we are lucky that your Over-Lord Himmler despatched a team to the land your kind calls Tibet."

"Indeed – my Lieutenant," Brommann waved at hand across to the officer, "Kappler here - was with Ernst Schäfer's expedition in 38."

Kappler nodded stiffly. "Indeed Lord Kaydohray my colleagues and I had the pleasure of being shown the wonders of that other great underground city."

"It was fortuitous that we have been able to forge an alliance." The Annunki replied. "I have spoken with my opposite number in,.. Tibet." The creature's opals eyes flickered. Kappler recognised the Annunki were uncomfortable using human terms for their own geography.

"I am told you are seeking samples of Meteorite rock."

To business then, thought Brommann. "Yes. However we require a specific kind of space-rock."

"Yes." The Annunki acknowledged.

"Those that fell to earth late last year, with the passing of the Barnett Winston Comet."

"Again Major, I have been informed of your needs.

"We have collected a number of these rather interesting meteorites, and in spirit of cooperation and goodwill our ruling council is pleased to offer some of these to our new allies, the Annunki are happy to extend this courtesy to our new allies."

"Germany thanks you Lord Kaydohray."

Without any obvious direction more Narga appeared, carrying two metal boxes. These they set down before the Nazi officers.

Kapper stood up and opened them.

"We have for reasons of safety enclosed the Meteorite examples in lead." Kaydohray explained.

"Why is that?" Brommann asked. He had not been told that the rocks might be dangerous. "Are they volatile?"

"You and your boat and crew however will be quite safe providing the rocks remain in their lead jackets. Are you familiar with x-rays."

"In principle."

"Then understand these rocks also radiate energy not unlike with x-rays, lead acts as a barrier to them."

The Major relaxed a little. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"No, there is nothing else." Kaydohray replied.

-'S'-

Princess Diana hidden behind the magic of the Proteus mask prepared unrecognised amongst her fellow Amazon's for the next round of the Themyscira's Tournament.

The field of competitors had been reduced by half and half again, a small but significant number of Amazons although technically victorious, had been forced to withdraw because of injury, mainly after the unarmed combat round, over five hundred women now stood ready to fight with the wooden staves.

This was the first of the armed combat bouts, and the first of the rounds in which equipment would be used, the heavy hard wood staffs.

The Referees drew new rings in the sand, it was a simple matter of taking two pieces of wood linked by a line of set length, one stick was driven into the sand, the other was rotated around it to create a circle.

It was the competitors duty to stay within the bounds of the ring, as before forcing an opponent out of bounds was one way of securing a win, as was a submission, and of course a knock-out.

In due course Diana, number eight, was called to take her place. Hefting her staff she squared off in front of her opponent Five Hundred and Forty Nine. Another face she recognised from the Royal Guard. A woman called Barkida.

Their wooden staves flashed in the air, cracking together like thunder. Diana blocked the blows directed by her accomplished opponent. Remembering the brutal finish to her unarmed combat round, Diana was more cautious, timing her responses to match those of the other Amazon, holding off her counter attack.

Frustrated by Diana's efficiency, Barkidat struck back hard fast attempting to punch through the Princess's guard with end of her staff.

Diana sees the blunt stave come towards her, and turns at the last moment, the attack flies past her, Barkida's staff crosses long ways - a hair's breadth parallel with her stomach. At the same time Diana turns away - sweeping Barkida's supporting leg; landing a precise weighted blow.

Diana takes no pleasure in this.

Her opponent falls awkwardly; Barkida's knee twisting from underneath her – the anterior cruciate ligament stretches and tears, Five Hundred and Forty Nine gasps in agony. In great pain with her staff in hand Barkida leans on the stave, rising on one good leg the proud Amazon warrior refuses to yield.

Diana twists and spins her staff, and delivering a lightening blow to the thigh muscle of her opponents good leg, then spinning the stave she uses the other end to hit Barkida's chest pushing her down once again.

Diana leaps forward stamping her competitors staff into the sand of the Arena, before placing the blunt end of her stave onto the woman's neck, still Barkida shakes her head and struggles to rise. The Princess looks to the referee, there is no quarter given, this is Tournament, and Diana staff strikes once more, the measured blow to Barkida's temple ushers unconsciousness.

-'S'-

Kaydohray stormed into the Grand Ground House.

The Diplomat had reason to be concerned. The Annunki High Council of Fourth Deep Vault were in session. The surfacer Superman had devastated their Narga guards, and the Over-Lords of the Underworld were deeply troubled. The nine leading Annunki had been forced to enter the fight, and in defending their fortress, they had come very close to defeat.

Reaching the depths of the Council Chamber Kaydohray was escorted into the meeting.

The High Lord of Annunki of the Fourth Vault addressed their emissary to the surface dwellers. "How was the meeting with our Allies?"

"Awful, I find humans detestable." Kaydohray replied. "The stench of them lingers yet in mouth. How foul that boat must be."

The assembled reptilians mumbled in agreement.

"You delivered what they asked for?" High Lord demanded directing this question at the Annunki researcher Bholandras.

"Yes. As agreed, I sent a small sample to Lord Kaydohray." The reptilian replied gesturing to the Diplomat.

The High Lord continued. "What concerns us the most Learned Researcher is the surface dweller Superman. My Lord Bholandras, this is clearly the same Deos who fought alongside the Crippled God. The report of the Council of Sixth Vault makes sober reading – they had to flee for their lives!"

The Annunki Council nodded in unison.

"Then we find this same Superman here in the Fourth Vault. He crushes our warriors forcing us to form a psychic coven and go up against him, and even this is not enough.

"Then suddenly we see you come to our aid!

"And now we have it – it was this meteorite material saved us. The same material we have given to this Surfacer Hitler.

"It was instrumental in Superman's capture."

The head feathers of one the Council of nine flickered. "Lord Researcher." The Annunki began. "Given what has happened I am concerned - this material is alien, not only to this world, but also to our science.

"We have all witnessed this - these meteorites have unpredictable properties, perhaps even they have something of the Old Power about them - and yet we are giving this material away?"

Bholandras bowed. "Lord Councillor, it true what you say, but we agreed this exchange long before the events of the last few hours. As it happened I was lucky enough to observe that Superman was susceptible to the radiation emitted by the alien rock; I simply acted on that information" Bholandras observed.

"And we are all very grateful that you did." The Lord High Councillor declared.

Bholandras bowed deeply.

Kaydohray countered. "My Lords, let us not cover old ground or second guess ourselves.

"The Nazi's made a request, a test of our alliance no less, they requested a sample of a meteorite. When we received their communication it seemed a small thing to ask."

"Except it is radioactive." Grumbled a Councillor.

Kaydohray nodded. "Indeed it is, but we all knew this - that the material was both alien and radioactive, just as we have known for some time that the surface dwellers have begun experimenting with nuclear technology – as much as this would frustrate our plans, the Surfacers already have access to naturally occuring radioactive elements in far greater volumes than the few pounds of material we have provided them.

"Lord Councillors - if we are to influence the course of this war to benefit us, then we must court influence with the likely victors.

"I hear the voices of concern, and naturally I am deeply troubled by the attack of this Superman.

"But this Council in joint session with the other great Vaults of our people agreed we must demonstrate our science, and impress upon our allies our technical superiority To lead them to victory down another more desirable path than nuclear science."

Kaydohlay strode forward saying "We agreed to bring the Surfacers to this city by translocation no less!

"These Nazi's were already here when the creature called Superman appeared, wrecking havoc in this very Grand Ground House.

"Above him our Allies were waiting for us to honour our promise, while below we struggled to contain this single creature.

"I fail to see what other course of action was open to us - a promise was given to this Surfacer Hitler. We were bound to honour it - to have acted otherwise would have appeared weak – a few pounds of a radioactive element is not going to make a great difference either way – they have ton's of earthly material to play with."

"I just can't help wondering whether our allies are aware of the potency of this new substance." His more cautious colleague suggested.

"Naturally – why else would they to so interested in it." Another agreed.

"What of the surface dweller called Superman?" The High Lord demanded.

Bholandas blinked and with moment of concentration engaged a televisual device which projected in the Council Chamber an image.

Before the Annunki was long cavern containing the four lead lined vaults, the place where Superman had come so close to defeating hundred of armed Narga, and more worryingly the Council itself.

There laying among the wreckage of the fight was the prone body of the caped man.

"He is yet to regain consciousness, the combination of Venom and radioactive meteorite material is proving to be very effective."

The High Councillor's feathers flickered. "Is this the best way to contain him?"

Bholandas cocked his head to one side. "My Lord Superman is going no where.

"As I'm sure you recall, when the enemy succumbed, the laboratory was evacuated. Obviously once the Council retired our energy shield dropped. Thus the Surfacer and the fragments of the meteorite material were released flooding the chamber with radiation.

"Fortunately the Great Ground House walls are insulated against such an event."

"Yes – That is all well and good Researcher, but what of our enemy; what of this Superman – what is to be done with him?

"My Lords – not only do these meteorites rob our enemy of his strength, it appears this radiation is killing the Surfacer, and under the circumstances I thought it best to simply seal the chamber, rather than risk contaminating any more of our assets, and permit this Superman to meet his natural end."

"Very well Lord Researcher. We look forward to your final report."

-'S'-

Themyscira's Great Stadia's Arena is cleared for the afternoon phase of the games. The competitors have a brief moment of respite, some seek familiar faces, others like Diana prefer to wait out the minutes in quiet contemplation.

Following the Staff's the numbers of warriors still in the games is halved again.

For the rest of the day the nature, if not the relentless pace of the Tournament changes.

The afternoon is a time for games of skill that will test each Competitor as much against themselves as each other.

First comes the Javelin round. This event includes two disciplines; there are measured throws for distance; followed by a test of accuracy with aimed throws at targets. Each woman is given three attempts to do her best at both respectively.

The same formulae is applied with the next discipline, the heavy Discus throw; and again for the archery competition. The Amazon's shoot from their beautiful composite bows of finest wood and bone, aiming at brightly coloured targets.

Diana conscious of her new found clarity of perception paces herself, still believing her enhanced perception to be some mysterious side effect of the Proteus mask that conceals her identity, she ensures that she remains certain of a place in the next stage of Tournament, while at the same time allowing others to lead the field.

At the end of these games the points tally, scores for accuracy and distance will determine which forty competitors will go through to the next round.

Watching her sisters performances closely Diana is careful to win through to the last group scoring enough to be ranked in the low teens - a good, but not outstanding position, careful at this stage not to draw undue attention to herself, Proteus mask not with standing.

For the last round of the first day, the Amazon bows are left in the Arena, and what follows is an uniquely Amazon discipline.

As before the warriors are randomly paired one against another, their numbers drawn together by lots.

The pairs stand a measured distance apart, and then simply take turns to shoot arrows at each other. Helm and breast plates provide protection for the head and body, but arms and legs are still exposed. This unique martial art evolving on Themyscira over many years to test the completeness of Warriors mental discipline – their absolute control over their every nerve fibre and muscle twitch. Armed only wit the Amazon's training and the symbols of their race, woman deflect incoming arrows with the metal of their adamant bracelets.

It is a dangerous test of eye to hand coordination, and one that cruelly thins the field further. An arrow strike is a debilitating injury, a glancing blow less, but even a strike upon the helm or breast-plate is judged as a failure, and leads to retirement from the Arena. For some one arrow expertly aimed proves enough, others stand firm, deflecting well into double figures before they make a solitary error. In due course the field is halved again.

-'S'-

Kate Winston found herself been forced along the tunnels leading from the Grand Ground House. Her two boys were being as brave as she could hope for, determinedly holding back their tears. She knew that Superman lay motionless in the Chamber behind them, defeated by the combination of reptilian venom, and the poisonous residue that sprouted from the K-Metal meteorites. How she wished her husband had never discovered them.

The Annunki Researcher she now knew to be called Bholandas had deemed her "sufficiently decontaminated to join the other cattle." By which he had meant the people who served the Annunki as slaves. They had been given a ill fitting smock to wear just like everyone of the Annunki's servants, along with the venomous pain inducing control bracelets.

Emerging into the main chamber of the underground city Kate, Bobbie, and Tommy were ushered into the human village.

There the Narga Guard turned them loose into the corral of huts. For what seemed like an age Kate stood alone with her two children.

She rubbed her wrists where the strange gauntlets chaffed, and wondered what was to become of them.

Slowly she saw the people emerge from the huts that served as their homes, their faces were full of questions, questions the Kate heard.

Words bombarded her from every side.

Grimy faces stared in silence, yet the were shouting at her, and they did not even know it.

Kate heard their thoughts, she could read their expressions, they were more eloquent than a thousand written words.

They spoke to her of hope, of a legend only hours old, a man who had come from the surface world and terrified their feared Over-Lords.

-'S'-

Across the sea the sun sinks behind the horizon, and in the Arena there is brief respite before the coming race. Darkness does not bring an end to the challenge of Tournament, but signals the beginning of a formidable challenge of strength, determination, and endurance.

In the light of the Stadia's large gaseous torches the last twenty Amazon's ready themselves for their Themyscira's own interpretation of the ancient Greek discipline of Hoplitodromos – a race run in full readiness for battle, literally running in full body armour carrying both sword and shield.

The Amazon's will run a course that will take them many miles out into the wilderness of their paradise island, and when the runners next sight the Great Stadia it will be dawn once more.

It is not a race for the faint hearted; but Tournament as already whittled out any Amazon not steel enough to endure the challenge.

Diana pushes onwards, her eyes on the prize, from the last twenty, only the first ten will continue to next round.

Again Diana paces herself, she keeping in sight the front runners, but she does not run with them.

Ahead of her two women jockey for position, their identities are as much hidden by the night as their helms. Shields clash against armour, and then swords flash in the darkness, they run on striking and pushing, neither gives ground.

The course winds on past high cliffs not far from the point where Diana and Mala had watched the stricken aircraft carrying Steve Trevor tumble into the sea.

With a cry one the warring runners loses her footing, she slides down a steep banking, the weight of her armour working against her she tumbles and falls over the precipice.

In a heartbeat Diana casts aside her sword and shield, and leaps into the unknown.

In the darkness her keen hunters eye sees the how the runner has fallen badly, she clings onto the cliff face, dangling perilously over the dark waters below.

Her leg hangs at twisted angle - clearly broken, but the immediate danger comes from her predicament. Her Amazon sister holds single handedly a tiny ledge, below her some hundreds of feet beneath is the crashing sea and jagged rocks, and her grip is failing.

There is no option, the games be damned. Diana clambers down the cliff face until she comes to where the injured Amazon struggles.

The Princess reaches out and grasps her sisters arm and with tremendous strength she draws the injured woman to her.

"Take hold of me." Diana instructs her, and the woman with tears of relief wraps her arms around the Princess's neck and Diana begins the long climb back up the cliff face. Her name is Telepyleia, but Diana dare not tell her name, so distinctive, so usual, foreign to Themyscira, a name from another world, it would betray instantly as the Princess.

Clambering back up to the path she lays the injured woman down. "Telepyleia I will inform the Marshall's at the next check point. They will send out someone for you. Be strong sister."

"And you. I cannot thank you... enough." Telepyleia gasped. "However you have delayed yourself enough already - saving me – I fear you have lost your place because of it, you are now certainly the last in the field."

"That maybe." Diana replied, retrieving her sword and shield the Princess of Themyscira returns to the race.

There is no place now for restraint, the Princess accelerates digging deep, finding new reserves of speed within herself.

"Thank Hermes!" She whispers aloud.

Charging forward Diana pushes on along the races course. Time is against her, but she is it's master, sprinting she passes runner after runner; and this it not an easy task, they do not give up their places easily, she is forced to use both her sword and her shield, but she skips past them, pushing, shoving, dodging and leaping Diana dives through the back of the field.

She pushes on into the night until the lights of Themyscira's Stadium beckon.

-'S'-

Superman stared into darkness, his breath was laboured, his mouth tasted bitter and bloody. Blinking his dry eyes refused to focus, every muscle ached to the bone. Pushing himself the caped man rolled onto his back, white light shone weakly from the chamber's roof – from the living metallic structure of the Grand Ground House.

In another section of the underground fortress of the Researcher Bholandras the Annunki was alerted by an alarm. The internal security system notified him that the Surfacer called Superman was regaining consciousness. The reptilian triggered the televisual viewing device engaging the feed from the abandoned cavern. It was not the first time the fallen hero had stirred, nor did Bholandras expect it to be the last; he now simply expected the Surfacer to die.

The communication panel lit up. The Researcher engaged the channel, cutting the feed from the cavernous laboratory.

"Lord High Councillor how can help you."

Superman breathed deeply trying to clear his head. He was acutely aware of the lingering Kryptonite radiation, and yet through the haze he felt his strength returning.

As he lay there Superman considered his predicament, sorting through the confusion of images and troubled dreams, he reckoned that his period of unconsciousness had lasted some time, probably a period of hours.

The fact the Annunki had left him where he had fallen pressed upon his mind. It was unreasonable to expect they had simply abandoned him, and yet he was surprised they had not attempted to imprison him.

Lifting his head Superman looked down the long chamber to the tunnel entrance beyond, it was sealed shut.

Laying back again he exhaled loudly; it was – he thought - reasonable to assume the chamber was locked down, that this was his prison – but why? He asked himself as he reflected on the Annunki's approach to the problem.

He realised that it was more than just Superman who was imprisoned here. The reptilians were careful to avoid radiation, in this case Kryptonite radiation.

It seemed strange given their caution here, that they had gone to the trouble of collecting the Meteorites, then it struck him. The Narga had been sent. The ruling Annunki had demonstrated little concern for the lower castes of the underworld, they were an expendable asset in the eyes of the ruling reptilians. It had been the warrior caste that had been exposed to the dangers of the meteorites; the Annunki had taken great trouble to not only to encase the Kryptonite in lead, but place the same in a lead vault. They had imprisoned Kate Winston for the same reason – her radioactivity; now they abandoned this chamber and him inside using this logic.

The Annunki had sought out the meteorites not because they wanted them, but because they did not want the Mole-men to possess them – it was a policy of denial.

-'S'-

Dawn comes to the Stadium, the crowds cheer their winners as the first runners appear, one by one run they pound into the Arena and cross the line. Diana her impossible charge complete comfortably makes the last ten, running home seventh.

The competitors are given water, but they are barely allowed to catch their breath, because just as in battle there is no respite – so it is here. The trumpets sound for the next round.

A warrior must not only run all night in full armour, but be ready to fight when the battlefield is reached – so the logic of the competition dictates the next round is combat as they stand, in armour, with sword and shield.

Even though helms mask the features of the last ten warriors, Diana recognises the combatants, among their number is she unsurprised to see her friend Mala.

She prays as the lots are cast, and the fates answer, her opponent is not her close friend, but an Amazon of great skill non the less.

The Arena rings out with the sound of metal against metal. The skill lays in blocking your opponents blows with the shield, leaving your attacking hand free to deal a blow.

This was not a fight to the death, the warring women, did not seek to kill, but there was an unspoken understanding that death was very possible – accidents happen. This was why the Amazon's made every effort to prevent the worst outcome.

Diana knew that women like Althea were the Arena, she and her fellow physicians were armed with the precious Healing Boxes, ready to run to the aid of fallen sister.

Swords clashed, shields barged one into the other, as the women fought each other, a mortal wound was only a cut, stab or slash away.

When a major artery was severed the stored energies of the Purple Ray was on hand to staunch the blood flow and begin the healing process there and then on the Arena floor, because there was not enough time to run to the Temple of the Daughter's of Asclepios as the sand soaked up the life blood of the fallen.

From the corner of her eye she spied a woman fall and Diana was aware that the medics were running at full sprint to her, but she could not allow herself the luxury of concern – she maintained her concentration, and in doing so she felt fresh, keen, even elated.

Tired limbs made mistakes and her opponent was slowing; by her number she was known as Nine Hundred and one. Diana could see the many hours of running had drained her, but Nine O' one was an Amazon, and driving herself forward into unrecognisable Princess she attacked with all she had left.

Diana barged her back slamming her shield hard into her, their helms touched and their eyes met. Diana roared, driving the other warrior backwards she feinted a stabbing thrust to left between her opponents arm and shield, Nine O' One moved to close the opening, Diana flicked her wrist round driving the hilt of her sword hard into the helm of her opponent.

The women staggered.

Diana leapt up and swung her elbow down on where the meat of her opponents neck was exposed, smashing the protruding edge of her long forearm-grieves into the exposed nerve cluster. In pain the woman teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, Diana finished the fight by driving a weighted metal fist in an upper cut placed on her exposed chin.

Casting the sword aside, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

The referee, took her hand and led her through the great arch in the arena's wall to the shouts and cheers of her sisters.

-'S'-

Waking once more from his troubled dreams, unsure if he had slept a but a moment or for many hours Superman was surprised, in the darkness he could hear a voice, or at least he thought he could, a woman's voice, Kate Winston's voice – she was calling to him. Gritting his teeth he struggled to answer.

Superman sat up, he still felt weak, looking around him he could not see her. Uncertainty welled up within him, and Superman doubted the evidence of his senses; sure he had experienced a auditory hallucination. Kate Winston was not in the room.

Breathing deeply Superman got to his feet, where - he wondered - has the Kryptonite gone? Then as searched the floor of Bholandras's laboratory the answer presented itself. The Great Grand House had saved him.

Bholandras continued his conversation with the High Chancellor.

"Researcher if I am to understand you correctly you are telling me this meterorite radiation behaves as a mutagen on a scale which defies rational explanation." The Annunki Leader concluded

"My experiments now indicate that."

The Lord High Councillor raised his feathers in alarm. "Researcher I am beginning to regret agreeing to release this substance to our allies."

Bholandras was about to placate his master when suddenly the alarms rang out, lighting up his panel.

Bholandras switched to view of his abandoned cavernous laboratory chamber, the Annunki Researcher cried out in alarm. Superman was gone.

Rapidly he brought up the data feed for last hour, it did not make sense.

The Surfacer's life signs had been completely depressed by the radiation.

"What is going on... How can this be... ? "Demanded his superior. The Lord High Councillor spat bitterly. "You said that the meteorite radiation was killing this Superman?"

"It was." Bholandras insisted. Of that fact he was sure. The cameras zoomed in to where the Man of Tomorrow had lain, to where scattered around him had been fragments of deadly Kryptonite.

Bholandras shouted in rage.

The images spoke for themselves. The floor of the chamber, made from living material had mutated at unparalleled rate, growing and sprouting, wrapping itself around the meteorites, encasing them in a hard metallic shell.

"This doesn't make sense." He stammered. "The rate of mutation, the pace of growth, it's not possible; my own experiments – non of them has indicated that anything like this could happen."

The Lord High Councillor demanded answers. The hunt was on for the Man of Steel.


	44. Chapter 44

Superman was surprised and pleased. It was incredible, but there it was plainly - the metallic shell-like floor of the Great Ground House was growing. This living material had covered over the fragments of Kryptonite. Crucially the lead like qualities of the mineral shell walls that had earlier hindered him - hiding this underground fortress from his first scan of the cavern, now came to his aid. These same properties were blocking the deadly Kryptonite emanations, and this allowed him to recover some of his strength.

Superman staggered away from the four lead lined metal vaults which stood at the heart of Bholandras's laboratory chamber, stumbling he made his way towards the far end of the long cylindrical cavern.

Kate Winston's voice was calling to him once again. He could not explain this, he did not understand it, perhaps – he thought, I am losing my mind?

By the time he reached the far end of cavernous laboratory Superman had broken from a painful hobble and into a determined run, he impacted the wall with all the strength he could muster, the wall cracked. Here the wall was comprised of several layers of the hardened living material, and represented the barrier between the underground fortress and the surrounding rock.

Superman pounded the shell, and egg like it shattered under his fists.

As the wall collapsed before him the breach of the Grand Ground Houses perimeter triggered all manners of alarms; but it was already too late.

Staggering through opening he had made an exhausted Man of Tomorrow smelled the signature chemical odour of the worm creatures responsible for maze of tunnels that connected the underworld. The burrowing beast had made it's way to the outer wall of the underground fortress, but had not been able to digest the metallic shell, the strange material had been created to be resistant to the beasts acid digestive secretions; a defensive barrier against a tunnelling attack.

There waiting for him was the Mole-man chief who hooted in joy, jumping from side to side the hairy hominid appeared genuinely thrilled to find Superman alive.

"Go now?" Superman pointed back up the tunnel leading away from the Grand Ground House. The Mole-men did not need to be encouraged.

-'S'-

Within the Great Stadia of Themyscira, beneath the spectators terraced seats, and concealed behind the Arena's walls, was accommodation for competitors and their equipment.

Diana fresh from her bout with sword and shield, was directed into a marble clad room, where she saw another victorious Amazon had preceded her; a Guards-woman called Alkithoe. She had removed her armour save for the breast and back plates, and her helm sat ready beside her.

All Amazon's who had been born from the primordial clay were all blessed by Aphrodite the goddess of beauty – and all were beautiful, but they were not all alike, and Alkithoe stood at one end of the spectrum of height and weight. She was tall, muscular, and stunning. Alkithoe had begun as the favourite. From all those who were soldiers in General Phillupus's Guard she stood out from the rest, now having come this far the powerful Amazon appeared unassailable. Her throws at distance were the greatest, her accuracy was less so, but at close quarters, with a weapon in her hand, she was formidable.

For her part the towering Amazon did not acknowledge Diana as she too removed her grieves, Alkithoe was lost in thought. Her arm bled from a cut, but she seemed not to care.

"Sister let me attend to your wound." Diana suggested.

"It is nothing." Alkithoe shook her head, but Diana brought a bowl of water and washed out the sand. Taking a clean bandage Diana secured it around the wound.

"Thank you." Alkithoe seemed to struggle to fit a name to the face of her fellow competitor, and then as Proteus mask worked it's magic she simply added. "Do not think your kindness here will make any difference should we fight."

Diana nodded – there could be no other way in the Arena. As she replaced the simple medical supplies she saw Mala entering the room.

Diana's heart leapt, she was pleased her friend had won through even though there was now an even chance of their been drawn against each other. Diana felt proud for her friend.

Mala looked past her, the Proteus Mask ensured she could not recognise her Princess, and she nodded a greeting to the quiet Alkithoe.

Diana recalled Mala had told she in the past had been a Guards-woman, many Amazon's enjoyed different challenges in their long lives.

Then few minutes later they were joined by the fourth victorious combatant.

Three rounds deadly rounds remained.

Diana sat across from her friend, and smiled a greeting. Mala of course had no idea who she was, smiled back blankly.

The fourth Amazon was called Hypsipyle, again a chosen fighter from the Royal Guard. Two soldiers, and two scholars thought Diana.

She was wrong.

Hypsipyle was more talkative. "Mala! You surprise me. I thought you would have gone soft. I mean spending these last few years baby sitting the Princess surely must blunt a warriors edge."

Alkithoe laughed. "You must have a short memory Hypsipyle if you thought General Mala would ever her lose her edge over the likes of you.

General Mala? Diana thought – what was this.

Mala frowned. "Less talk of this sort would suit a daughter of Aphrodite better."

Hypsipyle smiled. "Is that an order General? Ah sorry must be my age, I'm forgetting you are not my commanding officer, your not even a warrior any more, and you haven't been for twenty years."

Mala frowned but did not rise to the bait. however continuing said.

"Aphrodite be damned. A true soldier is happiest serving Athena as goddess of war."

"I am happy enough." Mala snapped back.

Hypsiplye smiled. "Happy? Really? I remember the day when our Queen asked you to become our Princess's bodyguard, to step aside from the Royal Guard, what were your words Mala? Wasn't it something along the lines of 'from General to wet-nurse' as I recall, there was nothing beautiful about the choice words you employed."

Mala's eyes flashed angrily.

Diana gasped. More deception, all her life she had thought Mala was her friend, but really she had been appointed to protect her – ordered to do so. She wondered how would General Phillipus act if given a similar Royal command?

Diana knew the disciplined Amazon would carry out the Queen's orders with the best of her ability – regardless of her feelings.

The Princess wondered to herself - what now - if anything was genuine about her relationship with Mala?"

A referee from the Arena gave the call. "To arms!"

Alkithoe rose, followed by Hypsipyle.

As Mala passed her, Diana took hold of her arm. "You must resent the Princess for taking away your place in the Royal Guard?"

Mala looked through her angrily. "What is it to you!" She pulled away and strode after the others.

Diana's ire did not lessen as she followed.

The Princess of Themyscira stood sternly and very alone in the Arena. She waited with Mala, Alkithoe, and Hypsiplye for the lots to be cast, and in due course the Referees announced the results of the draw; the fates decreed Diana would face the towering Alkithoe.

Each woman took two short swords – one in each hand, they faced their allotted opponent wearing the breast and backplate, and their bronze helms; their limbs were exposed, and with no shield they would require all their skill to fight two handed, blocking with the flat of the blade and striking with the edge.

Moments before Diana was hoping that we should _not_ have to face Mala, but now Diana was nothing but angry, now in truth she wished that Alkithoe _was_ Mala.

Angrily she fought, and the two Amazon's danced a deathly quick step, to the beat of clashing metal, punctured by deft stab, and counter move.

Diana found her concentration was compromised by her feelings, and the more resentful she felt the stronger her opponent became.

Diana's concentration lapsed, her eyes flickering across to where _General_ Mala fought Hypsiplye."

Alkithoe took immediate advantage The powerful Amazon drove at her, and Diana blocked the low blow, countering, but her sword slid from the armoured plate of her opponents chest. Alkithoe's right arm powered down driving the razor edged blade at her opponent. Diana reacted – she ducked, but she was too late the slashing sideways blow struck her, missing the meat of her arm, and coming down hard against her helm as she tried to crouch under the blow.

The metal rang loud, Diana staggered, she tasted blood, her head ached; she fell away hitting the sand, rolling out of harms way. Yet another attack from the swift hand of Alkithoe scratched the Arena floor, a hairs breadth from her.

Diana flipped to her feet, and as she turned in the air, she found herself blinking furiously before realising that her field of vision had been interrupted. Alkithoe's blow had deformed the metal of her helmet, twisting it, restricting her line of sight.

Pain concentrated her mind.

Alkithoe came at her fast. The powerful warrior sensed victory and was determined to end the fight quickly. Two swords zipped through the air, but that was all they touched, Diana leapt high above the towering Amazon, kicking down onto the metal of Alkithoe's helm beneath her foot, Alkithoe stumbled to the ground. Above Diana somersaulted over her unsettled opponent, while in the same moment the Princess shook off her own twisted broken helmet. Thinking I need to see clearly more than I need it's protection.

She touched the sand at edge of the ring, time was moving slowly once more, Diana was in control of her emotions. Behind her Alkithoe rose to her feet enraged. The Princess faced the Royal Box above, where something happened that stunned her.

The Queen rose to her feet, and wide eyed mouthed her name. "Diana."

She could not pause - not now. Her concentration must not be broken. Hearing the sand crunching as Alkithoe circled behind her, focused Diana's thoughts. He opponent was wary now she had seen Diana's unexpected athleticism.

To the Princess's left lay her twisted helmet, and to her right Diana saw the Proteus mask, it lay cracked into two pieces, broken apart when Alithoe's sword had smashed into her helm.

Her deception was exposed.

Alkithoe came at her from behind. The towering Amazon, still had no idea who she now attacked. Diana had to act, and resolute she breathed deeply, concentrated and span to face her.

Alkithoe's two swords plunged towards her, aimed at disabling Diana's arms.

Diana blocked both blades high kicking in an open scissor movement, her left and right feet punching apart her opponents arms while she brought the hilt's of her two swords together in crunching upward blow aimed directly into Alkithoe's jaw. The tall women staggered back stunned. Diana at the same time dropped to her feet bringing her swords downwards from Alkithoe's chin, in sweeping motion she sliced open the exposed undersides of her opponents forearms.

The tall warrior dropped to her knees, her grip spoiled, blood flooded from the open veins into the golden sand of the Arena. The Referee stepped forward, as the medics came to Alkithoe's aid, declaring Diana the winner.

The Stadium was stunned. A long moment passed. A lone voice cried out in disbelief. "It is the Princess!"

Others called out – crying the same. "It is the Princess!"

The tiers of the crowded Stadia erupted, the roar from her Amazonian sisters was incredible. The favourite had been beaten! Beaten by non other than the Princess of Themyscira.

No one was sure how it could be Diana who stood on blood stained sand of the Arena, but there was not Amazon who failed to recognise it was their Princess.

Diana turned and saluted the crowd. The Royal box stood empty.

The Queen had left the stage.

-'S'-

Boholandras shook with rage. The answer was inescapable.

"My Lord." He spat. "It was our own energy that stimulated the meteorites – the energy of our own force shield!

"The material has basal state, it is radioactive, and over time can trigger mutations in living tissue. However if exposed an energy source the material absorbs and converts the available energy into more radioactive emanations."

The Lord High Councillor's opal eyes stared at the Researcher through the televisual screen. His feathers were upright and spread outwards in rage.

"Where is Superman now?"

-'S'-

General Phillipus struck the sand, somersaulting down from the Royal box to land in front of Diana. Her face was like thunder.

"The Queen will speak with you Princess. Immediately."

Diana walked away with the General into the Arena wall through the Arch to hushed whispers from the stunned crowd above.

Once inside, stairs led directly to the Queens rooms behind the Royal box, Diana was brought directly into her mother's presence.

"What in Hera do you think you are doing?" Hippolyta exploded.

"Competing. As is every Amazon's right in the Tournament - for the gods."

The loud slap reverberated around the room. Diana's cheek stung with the blow, but her heart hurt far more.

"Well?" The Queen demanded to Philipus, how is this possible?"

"Majesty I have inspected her mark; there is no doubt Diana _is_ competitor number eight. It is the same number painted yesterday at the dawn with the indelible ink of Tournament - it is a true mark, it cannot be changed or reproduced.

"Truly Diana has competed throughout the games."

"How did you do this Diana?" Her mother asked.

Diana's blue eyes stared back defiantly.

"This Majesty appears to Proteus Mask, broken it would seem in this last bout." Phillipus showed Hippolyta the pieces of the crude wooden carving."

Hippolyta sighed, she seemed to deflate. "A Proteus Mask? How – where would you get such thing?"

"Lord Hermes." Diana said

The Queen shook her head in despair, turning away she paced the floor.

"Mother, I entered the competition. I took my number, I competed as my number. Now I have fought my way to the last fight. Would you invalidate Tournament now by denying me my Amazonian birthright?"

"Damn you Diana you can have your hearts desire." Hippolyta replied enraged. Taking the broken Proteus mask from Phillipus she threw the pieces at Diana's feet. Saying through tears. "Who am I to stand in the way of the gods."

Diana returned to the Arena, it's silence was deafening. She held head high – but her mothers tears weighed heavy on her soul.

-'S'-

"The U-Boat has gone." Superman noted.

"Yes, that left some hours ago, through the vortex." Kate Winston explained. "It must be some sort of doorway through space-time, quite incredible. These are heartless and immoral creatures, but their science is incredible."

Superman nodded, remembering Kate Winston had a doctorate in Astronomy. She was well placed to make this judgement.

She touched her arm where the control gauntlet had been, there was a red welt where it had tapped in her veins to feed vampire like from her blood.

Superman continued to remove these fiendish control device from the Slave population. Using his heat vision he vaporised the venom sack, then cut the metal frame and metallic shell, before cracking the gauntlets from off their arms. All the while he gratefully accepted food and water.

"You must be very hungry."

"I'm drained, and I need to rebuild my strength, purge the poison from my system." He replied.

As the word spread more and more humans made their way to the makeshift camp on the edge of the cliff like wall of the huge underground vault.

"How did the Mole-men make contact?" Superman asked.

"I heard their thoughts." Kate replied, chaotic and alien, but different from the reptilians, then the Chief, the one of their number who speaks English after a fashion. He must had seen me arrive at the village, because I heard English words amongst his thoughts.

"I reached out to him, and they appeared out of nowhere into the camp."

Superman nodded. He was still working releasing the slaves, a long line had formed.

Kate Winston looked at him. "You are not going to ask me how I can read minds, and project my thoughts?"

"No. I'm not." Superman replied. There followed a satisfying crack, crack, as another person was freed from the Annunki's devilish devices.

"I don't understand."

"Why you can read thoughts, or why I don't ask you how you can read thoughts." Superman's eyes flashed red as he incinerated the venom sack of another gauntlet. He bit into a dark underworld fruit. As his heat vision burned again.

"Yes, I mean both, I don't know why myself, or why you don't ask. I know I'd be very curious."

Suddenly Kate's hand gripped his hard arm.

"Barney." She said, stating at him. "Your mind Superman is the most controlled I've experienced – but I can see you now – with Barney; Barney was Metalo?"

Kate sat down on a rock, the blood drained from her face. "Tell me the truth Superman."

"Kate it's like this. Remember the explosion at the Observatory? Somehow the K-Metal became joined with his radiation suit, it melded to it, took over –that's why he appeared so robot like. It began to function like a machine, a machine that gave him great powers; but at the same time the radiation affected his mind.

"I'm convinced in his deranged state he believed he was protecting you and the boys."

"While collecting the meteorites." She said after a moment of silence. "Which explains my new found extra sensory perception – caused, triggered, changed – whatever, by the K-Metal radiation; it can give some one powers, while another person – you Superman, has their strength taken away."

"That is my working theory." Superman replied.

"When were you going to tell me this." Kate asked coolly.

"When we got out of here." Superman replied, releasing another slave from her bondage to the Annunki"

Kate Winston frowned, but recognised his reasons. "Okay – I understand your priorities; and I hope you understand mine."

"Bobbie and Tommy are fine – as far as I can tell." Superman replied. He did not need to read minds to know who Kate was worried about.

"And just how far can you tell that they are fine by looking at them?" Kate snapped.

"I can see through solid matter, I have 'x-ray' vision if you like, although that expression doesn't really do justice to what I see."

"You can?" Kate coughed.

Superman broke off from his work. "Kate you knew the rocks radiated some form of energy. Obviously Barnett told you. I know this because you shielded your children from them, Bholandras worked that one out for himself.

"I can't guarantee that nothing _will_ happen, but I promise I will try my best to make sure both Bobbie and Tommy are okay."

Kate nodded saying. "I'm sorry Superman, I know you are doing the best you can."

The Man of Steel frowned. "There is a Overseer coming. He will reach us in around three minutes."

Kate nodded, and in moment she shouted the image with her thoughts into every one in the encampment.

The Mole-men hunkered down bringing their weapons to bear.

Superman strode out to meet the robed man; he was not alone, Rourke was with him.

"I knew you'd be somewhere with the people." The old man said hoarsely. "You told me you'd come to rescue us all."

"And I have Leonard. Even your friend here, all of you are victims of the Annunki."

Years and years of conditioning worked against Superman's words, and Rourke with tears in his eyes shook his head.

"You don't understand, with a thought they bring pain – they hurt you and hurt you, fight them and you die."

"He speaks the truth Surfacer." The Overseer agreed raising his staff. "I must bring order to the vault. Surrender Surfacer or I will kill everyone here."

The Man of Tomorrow looked at the staff, it was a living device of Annunki design, the means by which the Overseer was able to communicate his commands to the control devices the slaves wore.

Superman tensed more than half the slaves had been freed, but the most of the men still had their gauntlets in place; thinking, if he took the staff, and broke it would that stop the Overseer from carrying out his threat? What if the device had a kill switch – breaking the staff might actually cause the control devices to fire a lethal venom dose.

Kate interrupted his thoughts, speaking to him with unspoken words directly into his mind. "Superman I can hear the staff thinking – if that's the right description, I think I know how the Annunki operate their devices, I sure I can stop it!"

Superman replied. "Okay Kate let's go."

The Overseer reacted to Superman's words with a thought – then angrily he shook the Staff, then in fear he shook it harder. The Man of Steel took it from his hands, and in flash of bright fire, incinerated it. Kate had been good to her word.

The Overseer looked on astounded, he turned to run, Superman gripped the nerve bundle at the base of the neck and he fell unconscious.

"Now Leonard." Superman said to the old man. "Are you ready to believe we can do this?"

-'S'-

Diana was escorted back onto the sands of the Arena, and she was not surprised that the fates had decided that Mala was the Amazon who awaited her.

Stripped of armour, their skin oiled both women held the sharpest of knives.

Diana faced her life long friend.

"General Mala. Body Guard to the Princess." She said by way of greeting.

Mala returned to her the saddest of glances.

"Why did you deceive me?" Diana demanded. "I thought you were my friend, instead all along it was my Mother's doing! The Queen commanded you to protect me; commanded you to befriend me - deception piled on deception!"

Mala's eyes now brimmed with tears.

"No my Princess. It was not like that." Mala gasped. Saying.

"I did give up the Royal Guard to be with you; but Diana I have loved you all your life, with all my heart."

She fell to her knees before Diana, turning her head she exposed the carotid artery in her neck. "I will not fight you princess, I will not try to spill your blood.

"Strike cleanly Diana, then the match is done."

Diana closed her eyes now she fought back her own tears. "No I will not."

The Princess threw her knives to the sand.

She turned to her mother, to the Amazon's seated in silence in the Stadia.

"I have my belly full of bloodshed. I will not strike down another of my sisters. Not Mala, not anyone. The gods have had enough Amazon blood today."

The crowd was hushed into silence. Every Amazon waited with baited breath as the spectacle before them played out.

Mala rose up. "My Queen, Diana is in every way my superior.

"And I should know.

"I have nurtured her, played the games of childhood, I have run beside her, and watched her play the games of the warrior.

"I know I am not her equal." Then Mala turned to face the Stadia, she said. "Nor is any Amazon on this Island, we have seen it today - Diana was born to be our Champion!"

The Amazonian Stadia sat again in stunned silence.

Hippolyta walked to the balcony's edge.

"Tournament cannot end in a draw."

The crowd murmured. Would the Queen really force the matter to a bloody conclusion? Had not Mala yielded? Submission was allowed. Victory was by right Diana's

"This is because." Hippolyta continued. "Our goddess Athena has commanded that we add a new and final trial to this our ancient tradition of Tournament.

"The Trial of Flashing Thunder."

"It was our expectation that the victor of the final round would face this trial alone. For it is a trial belonging to Man's world – and alone our Champion will face the challenges of the realms beyond this Island.

"But it is our decision that this match be declared a draw, and that two combatants will go forward together and face the trial, and whoever is left standing she will be our Champion."

Moments pass, and the Stadia grows ever the more tense - the atmosphere is electric; as the Amazon Sisterhood wait for this final challenge.

Phillipus walks out onto the sand. Diana watched her methodical approach. In her hand she carries a strange looking alien object, a long metal rectangle, larger than her arm, ending in short metal cylinder.

A wooden tripod of Themysciran design is deployed by a Guards-woman. The General with a practised motion mounts the device onto the three legged support.

She opens the top of the metal box, and threads into it what appears to be a belt made up of fat brassy metal darts.

Mala leaves the Princess side and strides across to Phillipus. Their eyes meet.

Something unspoken passes between them and the General nods almost imperceptibly, and then Phillipus shouts aloud.

"The lot is drawn – the Fates have decided it; Mala will go first."

The Amazonian warrior walks across the Arena passing Diana by; as she does so Mala whispers. "Watch and learn."

Mala reaches a line drawn in the sand some distance from the Maxim Machine Gun, formally mounted to Sopwith Camel Bi-Plane, the weapon had by a twist of fate some twenty or so years before come into the hands of Amazon's.

In that time, hidden from view - the highest ranking officers of the Royal Guard had witnessed it's destructive power, and sought to master it. Mala was one of those officers, so she knew what was to come.

She nodded to her old comrade, and Phillapus pressed the trigger.

The gun spat bullets in a hail of death. Mala's hands moved, her motions a blur, adamant bracelets blocking the path of bullets, but then seconds later her left shoulder exploded as a bullet found it's mark, and Mala was thrown to the ground, the sand of the Arena was red again.

Medics rushed to her aid. Mala grimly rose to her knees, her hand vainly trying to stem the flow of blood from her terrible wound.

Sombrely Diana stepped forward. The Stadium had never been quieter.

Her heart raced, never had she seen such an engine of death.

Phillipus, looked at the Princess, and then without emotion she unleashed the machine gun's hail of bullets once more.

Diana concentrated. The bullets were not only far smaller than the arrows, they also flew far faster.

The Princess's hands flashed intercepting the deadly projectiles, one and then another and another, time and again – for her time slowed, for uniquely Diana possessed the gift of Hermes.

Phillipus's hard face demeanour melted into an expression of amazement as Diana stood in the path of the machine gun her arms a blur of measured movement.

The gun clicked it's ammunition belt was expended.

Diana stood triumphant a pile of spent ammunition lay on the ground around her and amidst it all she was unharmed.

Hippolyta breathed again. The Stadia roared in approval. Women jumping the their feet – shouting out, "Diana!"

The Queen leant on the balustrade her heart beating as if it were to burst out of her chest. It was the speed of Hermes, not doubt, no other Amazon in three millennia had ever moved with such pace and grace.

Diana walked to the Royal Box as her sister cheered their Champion.

Her mother waited. Hippolyta looked at daughter and her eyes were full of tears again, but this time not with anger and grief, this time her eyes spoke of pride, joy and acceptance.

"Today Diana, you will receive the colours of our Champion." Hippolyta proclaimed, her voice amplified throughout the great stadium.

The Stadia roared it's approval once again.

Hippolyta raised her hands and beckoned her sisters to be quiet.

"Champion of Themyscira, we salute you!" She said to her daughter, into her hands she took a blue garment. The Queen then said to Diana, and to the crowd beyond.

"My first bears the pattern of the Stars.

"The Star is a symbol celestial goodness, a star is a symbol of a noble person, this costume bears the images of the fifty great fixed stars of the heavens, which for centuries been our guide."

Hippolyta held out a deep blue shoulder-less leotard covered with bright white five pointed stars; saying.

"Blue is colour of truth and loyalty, with these you will gird your loins, and these you will wear close to your heart always."

Diana received the costume. Then then Queen continued.

"My Second bears the crest of the Eagle. The Great Bird of Olympus, of Zeus and Hera; also of our goddess Athena."

Hippolya held up a strong light weight bodice in blood red, a light weight Aegis - it was decorated with gilded ornate stylised eagle.

"The Eagle speaks of noble nature; of strength, bravery, and alertness of mind. The Eagle's signature is ingenuity, it is quick-witted thinking, and judicious judgement.

Hyppolyta smiled adding. "These spreading wings cross this Aegis to signify protection.

"See this gold Diana – this signifies generosity and elevation of the mind."

"My Third are red also. For red is the colour of the warrior and of the martyr. Red is strength and magnanimity. These are you boots. The white stripe symbolises the peace and sincerity that will accompany you where ever your feet take you.

These are the colours of the Champion of Themyscira.

"Diana Themyscira salutes you - Amazonian Emissary to Man's World, may they all come and wonder at the woman born on this paradise Island. May you end all their wars and teach them the ways of peace."

-'S'-

The Mole-men spread out ahead of the main rag-tag army of freed human slaves armed with whatever they could lay their hands on.

The Narga were few on the ground as the revolution spread towards the city, the warrior caste had been suffered with large numbers injured battling the Man of Steel, they had killed their own in their drug induced berserker crazed assault, friendly fire ending the lives of a significant number of the underworlds soldiers; many others convalesced with broken bones and other injuries.

The few Narga Guards the Mole-men encountered as they crept forward, were neutralised with quick and silent efficiency.

Rourke finally persuaded to believe, led the humans to the weapon store. The Annunki's confidence in their own superiority began working against the reptilians as Kate Winston was able, using her new found abilities to mentally command the locked door of the chamber to open. Now the Narga's chemical projectile weapons were passed out among the freed slaves.

As the revolution spread, it was impossible to proceed undetected. The Alarm went up and the Narga appeared and began to lay down fire.

This was Superman's cue. He launched into the air. He had to trust his allies, the Mole-men, the freed slaves. His battle lay elsewhere.

He could see the Annunki appear, they climbed atop of the pyramidal buildings, forming nine covens of nine. The creature's were ready to unleash their powerful psychic weapon. Now Superman made his move.

Flying across the city he made sure he had their attention. The dark cavern lit up as his heat vision targeted the individual covens. The energy shields around them flashed red as the fire from the angry Man of Tomorrow ignited the air around them.

A sphere of crackling energy hurtled towards him, but Superman was wise through experience. He knew that the fluid-like energy could change in density, in size, and direction. While not quite an open sky, there was greater room in the vast cavern for the Man of Steel to manoeuvre, and this was where he ruled supreme. Ultimately the Annuki were themselves limited by the dimensions of vault themselves, if they misjudged an attack – and Superman's speed and mobility ensured they did, then tons of rock would fall directly on their city below.

Diving away from the charging spheres, Superman swooped low breathing in deeply as he approached an Annunki coven. They reformed an energy shield around themselves, but it was a feint on Superman's part, twisting in the air he shot away releasing a blast of icy super pressurised air from his lungs at a second exposed group of nine reptilians, the icy wind encircled them, and Annunki shook as the frost clung to their pale scaly hides, they collapsed unable to remain conscious in the sudden cold.

Sweeping round again Superman avoided to colliding spheres of energy, diving into the city itself he smashed through the masonry and stone outcrops, appearing right through the midst of another coven, grabbing two of reptilians as he flew past, their bird like screeches ringing in his ears, Superman dropped them tumbling into the lake.

Superman watched the fluidic energy as it pulsated and changed, avoiding the spheres when they were less than solid, and seeking out those in spheres currently being projected in their solid state. The Man of Steel met these head on with a mighty two handed punch, he rocketed these back towards the pyramidal building with the active Annunki covens atop.

The force of his blows seem to reverberate into the nine reptilians who collectively controlled the energy, the groups would falter, and stagger. Superman then launched one Sphere crashing into a second, the effect was devastating - breaking one coven, causing the reptilians to fall to the floor stunned by the psychic backwash.

Throughout the great underground vault the revolution gained momentum, the Narga forces already weakened, fell back defeated. The reptilian Guard were denied their berserker state, as the signal to the Narga's gauntlets to inject the warrior caste with the powerful narcotic was mysteriously blocked to the Annunki's surprise and frustration.

Another psychic power operating with the Rebels Army. Kate Winston advanced with the forces, her boys safe with the other children deep in the tunnels beyond the Annunki realm, with the Mole-men people. Kate herself was guarded by the Mole-man chief, the hairy hominid would permit no one else the honour.

Kate listened to the Annunki chatter, interpreting it on an instinctual level deciphering the simple commands the reptilian over lords used to instruct their organic machinery.

Superman heard her warning in his mind, the Annunki were active – something was afoot.

Rising from the island came the strange spider shaped statue, it's crystalline abdomen was alight with energy. Superman immediately linking it's emergence to Kate's warning.

Unlike before, the device was already engaged, the great crystal glowed as it rose out of the island complex, a fact that was not lost on the Man of Steel.

He now made a connection. The strange machine was impenetrable to his gaze. He had only this simple visual confirmation that they mechanism was at work. However it made sense to him that it was - this crystalline device had to be the engine of the Annunki's power; he was angry with himself for not making the connection sooner.

With a blast of super cold compressed air from his lungs he felled another coven of exposed Annuki; another group raised an energy shield and thwarted him, but he sensed the battle had already shifted.

Below the Narga were defeated. The Man of Tomorrow concluded the Annunki must have raised their crystalline device from the safety of its bunker for a one reason and one reason alone.

They intended to open a doorway.

Superman shot forward across the dark water, his passing whipping up the surface of the subterranean lake as he hurtled on - smashing into the island. Above him the space-time vortex was forming, did then Annunki mean to escape – or did they mean to bring reinforcements? Superman did not know, but he was determined not to permit them either way.

Already the device was spitting lightening like bolts of energy into the air.

The Man of Steel ripped into the flattened pyramidal building that housed the dimensional doorway machine.

Crashing into the metal spider, he ripped the egg shaped crystal from it's arachnid shaped base.

Frustratingly this did not interrupt the process, and surrounded by cracking energy, Superman carried the device out into the cavern itself. Lightening snaked from it into the vortex; the portal moved as the crystal moved Superman flew with huge crystal in his hands but the door way followed, continuing to take shape regardless, a swirling kaleidoscope of purple, and green still tethered to the source of it's energies.

Superman looked down at the Annunki, they were gathering together in city's central plaza. He realised that in moments the portal would be completely formed; his eidetic memory recognising a subtle repeating pattern in apparently random flashes of light and colour.

Superman was left with little choice, everything he knew about physics told him there were incredible forces at work, destroying the active crystal could unleash them here and now or even conceivably somewhere else entirely – it was a devil's choice.

A split second after the portal fully formed the reptilian reinforcements emerged from the twisting vortex in the shape of spinning disc, centred around a globe of iridescent metal.

Superman felt the vibrations from within crystal device subside and the lightening energy tether between the Vortex and the translucent jewel dissipated instantly. The Crystals light dimmed and died, and it became a translucent gem once more.

Above the underground city the unidentified aircraft swung around and swooped over the dark lake; Superman had done his best, and now this new threat had appeared, angrily he discarded the dead crystalline device. With powerful lob he threw the huge jewel into the deep water of the dark lake – and at the same time the Man of Tomorrow hurtled to meet the flying vehicle.

Diving into it's path he angrily found that with cruel accuracy the Annunki craft was able fire beams of charged energy past him at the rebel positions; scorching the rock floor, incinerating buildings and people.

Superman roared with rage. Faster than a speeding bullet he maybe, but the laser weapons travelled at the speed of light – these were something new to him, and unprecedented challenge.

The saucer craft swung around away from him and the rebels, moving towards the central plaza where the Annunki had gathered. The reptilian ruling caste's total numbers were small, barely a hundred or more of the tall reptilians had come together, all of their kind in this region of the underworld. Their island machine had been smashed apart by the Man of Steel and they were now deprived of the energy needed to create their psychic shield, finally they knew fear as they huddled together in terrified groups.

Superman reasoned this spinning vehicle was coming to their protection, their rescue.

The Metropolis Marvel frowned as he concentrated his focus on the spinning disc, he tried to peer through the strange energies that swirled around the craft, and sifting through them he began to see the shape and form of nine reptilians – the Annunki coven was standing around a crystal at the heart of globe, beneath them strange machinery throbbed with electro-magnetic energy, he had seen this technology before within the space-craft that lay deep under Californian bedrock. The space-craft Hephaestus had guided him too; where he had battled the Chthonic Furies, and retrieved from within the spaceship it's Hyperion Generator.

Superman saw a glimmer of light on the face of the spinning disc, he recognised the energy beam weapon was building it's charge to fire. Keeping his focus on this point he swooped into the line of fire, putting himself between the rebels and the Annuki's weapon of war.

The energy beam ignited, the speeding laser weapon flashed outwards, Superman was already moving, crossing into the light energy beam, interrupting the laser's attack, he felt the heat – the power, and gasped twisting in the air, he fell unable to hold himself in flight.

Slip seconds past. Hitting the ground feet first, Superman emerged from his crouch, summoning all his strength the Man of Tomorrow launched himself at the flying saucer. It had to be stopped. People were dying.

The sonic boom of his passing reverberated throughout the chamber, and rocks fell like hail, buildings shook; but before the debris had hit the ground, Superman made contact fists first with the spinning disc – an adamant arrow, the Man of Steel smashed through the machinery of the alien vehicle, before punching out the far side.

The flying saucer listed in the air, it's energy shield spitting and flashing uncontrollably. Then it began to fall, Superman dove beneath the craft, his hands gripping the metallic hull of the globe.

He grimaced as he controlled the broken crafts descent, no longer repelling gravity the vehicle seemed instead to be attracted powerfully to the ground, as if the Earth herself were pulling the disc towards it.

Superman pushed against the weight of the craft, steadily it's mass began to multiply, and the more the strange energy field span wildly, the greater the downward force became. The saucers weight was growing by the second. Superman lowered it deliberately to the Plaza below.

His feet touched the floor of the great vault, the disc was suspended above him. Sweat began to drip from the Man of Steel's face.

Seeing among the terrified Annunki a feathered reptilian he recognised, Superman shouted out. "Bholandras, I cannot hold this craft much longer, whatever means your kind have of escaping this machine the must do it now."

The Annunki Researcher understood the Surfacer's words but barely believed them. "You will let us live?" It gasped.

"Of course – I am Superman." The Man of Tomorrow gasped as he sank the earth, holding the globe of the broken saucer ship like Atlas holding up the world.

"Hurry, time is short." He said earnestly, the ground cracked beneath him.

Bholandras communicated with his kin in the ship by unspoken means.

A loud hiss was accompanied by the explosive expulsion of hatch door, the metal plug shot out like a cork and careered past the skittish Annunki who were forced to scamper out of it's path.

Then tumbling from the escape hatch came the nine crew of the flying saucer, they jumped free, sprinting from under the sharp edge of the ships spinning disc, and away from their doomed weapon of war.

Superman with a supreme effort twisted himself from under the craft, barely escaping as the vehicle plunged into the Great Ground House below.

Superman had chosen this spot; it was no accident that the Man of Steel landed the flying disc here; directly above the subterranean fortress – the Great Ground House of the Annunki. With Superman gone, the vehicle fell - it's spinning blade like circular wing cut a wide gaping hole into the rock floor of the plaza.

The fatally damaged craft tumbled through the chambers of the Annunki's underground castle, gaining momentum by the second. A bladed wrecking ball, it fell directly into the chamber of the long laboratory, tumbling through the lead lined vaults, and cutting a path into the rock below.

The vehicle kept falling, and the contents of the vaults fell after it, and on top this tumbled the wreckage of the Great Ground House it self.

The spinning disc descent continued, the saucer cut a path into the hot molten core of the Earth. Superman watched as the compromised hull of the metallic disc succumbed to magma's consuming heat. The explosion deep below them rocked the great vault, rocks tumbled from the chambers walls and roof, and then it was all over.

All that remained was a gaping hole in the city's Plaza. Hot gases rose like steam from the deep debris filled shaft. The smoking ruins of what had been the Annunki's seat of power had collapsed into the Earth's hot interior.

Superman watched as the rebel forces strode triumphantly into the central plaza of the underground city. Victory was theirs, and with it, their freedom.


	45. Chapter 45

Lois Lane glanced across the Daily Star's busy newsroom. Clark Kent's desk was empty, he had been gone close to a week now, no real explanation; she should be used to his eccentricities by now She reflected.

Lois returned her fingers to the keys of her the typewriter, the words of this piece were proving almost as elusive as the expose itself.

Lois looked back across at where Kent should be. Kent should be sat there wearing his goofy smile, behind those thick spectacles he wore. Kent should be here so she could go over and hassle him about her story, and then Clark would then suggest some corny turn of phrase which would be utterly useless, but reacting against his ideas always seemed to inspire her to come up with the goods.

Did he do that on purpose? Lois wondered.

She closed her eyes looking for inspiration.

"Miss Lane. Miss Lois Lane?"

Lois snapped back, her eyes locked on the face connected to the voice. It was a pretty face, green eyes, a smattering of freckles kissed her pale skin, a crown of deep red hair whose soft curls cascaded across her shoulders in the style of Veronica Lake.

"Yes?" She replied, kicking back her chair, Lois stood up. "You've found me, what can I do you for?"

"Lana Lang." The young woman held out her hand. Lois thought she was eighteen, maybe twenty, smartly dressed.

"The Gentleman at the door said you were the one I should ask for."

"Gentleman?" Lois asked. Shaking Lana's hand.

"Yes. Dan – he was kind enough to let me through."

"Really?" Lois commented. Not surprising she thought Lana Lang was the kind of girl that men liked to open doors for.

Lana smiled. "Miss Lane I don't want to be any trouble, but I was hoping you please tell me where I might find Clark Kent?"

Lois coughed in surprise, how did Kent manage it? He was on the face of it just so uninspiring – and yet he seemed to attract good looking women – even movie stars, well a half crazed mind warped movie star, Lois reflected.

Lana Lang looked at her intently.

"Kent? He's hasn't been in all week." Lois answered.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Dan told me that... its just, well Dan pointed you out, because I thought, well seeing you and Clark have been working together, that you could tell me..."

"Look Miss Lang, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but as far as I know Clark is visiting his Parents in Maryland; and before you ask - I can't tell you when he will be back, because I don't know."

Lana looked surprised.

"I'm sorry if you've had a wasted journey." Lois added, before her journalistic instincts mated to her feminine curiosity kicked and she asked. "I hope you haven't come far?"

"Oh, only Kansas." Lana replied matter of factly – to say, yes I have, in as many words.

"I thought I detected a touch of a mid-western accent there."

"You say Clark is in Maryland?"

"Yes."

Lana appeared puzzled. "And you are sure about that?"

"As sure as I can be – given that's what I've been told.

"Is their a problem Miss Lang?"

"Miss Lane, I don't want to appear err, contrary, but as it happens I spoke with Clark's parents only yesterday; on the telephone, and I promise you Clark was not there. In fact they didn't mention anything about him visiting; rather they gave me his address in Metropolis, and told me to look him up here."

Lois frowned. Lang was obviously a family friend, maybe even a relative – she did not have Clark's colouring, but she remembered Kent had told her he had been adopted. Basically Lois decided, that not for the first time, her partner was being economical with the truth. What – she wondered, was he really up to?"

-'S'-

Superman and Kate Winston stood back and watched the victory celebrations deep in the former underworld kingdom of the Annunki, now liberated.

Kate turned to the Man of Steel. "I'm ready Superman. I really need to get home, to be with my husband, to get my children safely tucked into their own beds."

"Of course." The Man of Tomorrow replied. Adding. "You know I somehow thought the people here would want to come with us and see the outside world."

Kate nodded. "You and I both, at least until I listened to their thoughts. Seriously Superman they would follow you to hell and back, and I'm sure if you'd asked them they'd have left this place."

"It felt at times we were there already."

"We're deep enough I think." Kate suggested with a smile. "But these underworlders have no idea of what the surface is. Rourke is the only one here who has seen the sky, and even he has no great desire to return."

Superman's expression registered surprise.

Kate blushed. "He has been here so long; well the changes – the advancements we've made back home – he asked me about that, and I told him the best I could."

Superman nodded. "Sure since he was lost down here a lot of things have changed."

"I guess the idea it was so different seems too have unnerved him, maybe in time he'll change his mind – but these other souls – well they were born here – this _is_ their world.

"As I listened to them, the excitement – the way they marvelled at the tales of the Mole-men territory, it made me realize - why should they want to leave the only home they have ever known?"

"Yes. That does make sense." Superman acknowledged. "But should Rourke or any one else want to explore beyond the underworld, well, I'll be here for them.

"But for now their freedom is a undiscovered country – mysterious and full of challenges." The Man of Tomorrow looked one more time at the great vault, before saying.

"Come then Mrs Winston, let us say our goodbyes, get your children together, and let's fly away home to Metropolis.

-'S'-

Mean while in the Daily Star building Lana Lang was looking at Lois Lane; and Lois Lane was looking at Lana Lang. Both eyed each other with a mix curiosity and suspicion.

"Sorry Miss Lang. I can only tell you what Clark told us, about his whereabouts." Lois stated. "I take it he wasn't at his apartment."

"No. I called there yesterday, and there was no reply – since I was passing the Daily Star building I thought I would try and catch him here at work. Lana explained.

"If I was you I would not worry about it." Lois replied. "Clark is probably chasing a story, in the newspaper game it pays to be sneaky at times.

"But if it helps I can give Clark a message when I see him next, but if you are going back to Kansas any time soon I guess that's not a great deal of use to you?" Lois gently dug a little deeper.

Lana smiled."That's kind of you, but the truth is I've just enrolled in Metropolis University, so actually I'll be around for quite sometime."

"oh. I see." Lois replied. Recovering quickly she asked. "What is your major?"

"Medicine."

"Oh wow, good for you. - hey you know what, this story I am writing here - it isn't happening, and I think that's because I need something sweet, a pick-me-up.

"How about I buy you a cup of coffee, least I can do to make up for my lackadaisical colleague disappointing you by not being here."

Lana appeared surprised by the gesture, but after giving it thought she said. "Okay Miss Lane, actually that would be very nice – thank you."

"Oh come on – call me Lois please."

"Okay then Lois, where to?"

"There's a Diner just down the street, Maggie's, great coffee, great doughnuts, oh and Clark loves their pie."

The walk to the corner of Washington Street didn't take long, but it was long enough for Lois to convince herself that she was not being a nosey so and so, but really just stepping up where Clark was absent, and giving this good kid a warm welcome to the big city.

"So Lana." She began. "How is Metropolis treating you – it's not the most friendly of places – at least that's how I remember it, when I was fresh of the train."

Lana ordered a black coffee. She waited for the waitress to finish with Lois before saying. "It's been swell so far, but you are right, people here do seem to be very busy with their own lives."

"A big change from Kansas I guess."

"Yes, but New York was no different."

Lois eyes registered mild surprise at this. Lana noted it and explained.

"Daddy sent me out of state to school there for a couple of years, and again it's not like this my first time in Metropolis either."

Lois added sugar to her coffee. Lana was letting her know that she was not so green. "How is it you know Clark?"

"Oh right." Lana replied appearing a little surprised. "I guess he's never mentioned me?"

Lois shook her head. She resisted the temptation of asking – why should he? Although she thought it. Instead she said. "To be honest Clark hasn't talked about his past much at all. Metropolis can be hard on people it sees as Okie's."

Lana pursed her lips in a thin smile.

"We grew up in the same town, went to the same school for a while." Lana said.

"Really, must have been small school."

"No, not especially." Lana replied a little tersely.

"Sorry Lois." She sighed. "It's just coming from a town called Smallville, people tend to assume it's _small._

"Okay it's no Metropolis – I suppose it's small by that standard, but Smallville is not a one horse town either.

"It's simply called Small after the family who founded the town, the name has nothing to do with it's actual size."

"Yes – of course. Smallville; that's the town, you are both from isn't it?

Lana nodded, there was colour in her cheeks. Irritation maybe Lois thought, she really thinks Clark should have told me more about where he grew up.

Lois swallowed and said. "I mean to say I thought that if you and Clark were at school together that he would have to be a senior and you a junior; but of course many rural schools are like that still – all the ages schooled in one building."

"Yes, they are, but I'm not sure what you mean. Clark and I are the same age Lois, we were in the same classes together, at least until he left school early – perhaps that why your are confused. He has been working man and boy for a few years now.

"A waste - really he was very good academically ."

Lois frowned, thinking. Had Clark ever told her his age - or had she just assumed from the way he carried himself that he was in his mid twenties? She began to wonder what else Kent was keeping from her.

-'S'-

Clark Kent arrived at the Daily Star Building feeling on top of the world, and not just in a geographic sense. There was something really heart warming he reflected about being party to a good old fashioned family reunion, although he reflected Barnett Winston would have to grow used to his wife's new found gifts - at least for the time being. Clark had no way of determining if the effects of the Kryptonite were permanent in Kate Winston, or temporary as with Barnett himself.

Exiting the lift onto the Newsroom floor, he greeted Dan the Security Guard on his way through the lobby.

"Hello Clark, your timing is a spot on as ever." Dan chuckled.

"Oh why's that?" Clark asked.

"Well you just missed the sweetest girl. I don't know how you do it. If it's not movie stars, then it's drop dead gorgeous redheads."

"I'm sorry Dan you've lost me? Your saying someone was here to see me?"

"Sure Clark, she was about yay-high, curves in all the right places, red hair, and these incredible green eyes."

Clark shook his head, it couldn't be he thought.

"Wait a second." Dan flicked open his note book. "I'd be lost without this... Okay. Her name was Lana Lang."

"Where did she go, did she leave me a message?"

"Err not exactly, I mean I told her you were out of town, and then she asks about Miss Lane, she seemed determined to find you, so I pointed her in the direction of Miss Lane, and well your friend, she went in spoke with her."

Clark sighed deeply. Dan added to his misery.

"Then they left a little while back."

"Together?"

"Yeah." Dan smiled mischievously. "Is that a problem?" He then added. "If it helps I think they were going down to Maggies."

Dan turned away, an odd noise caught his attention. When he looked back Kent had vanished.

"Lana." Clark said. "Wow this is a surprise. Hello Lois how are you?"

Kent stood beside the girls booth in the diner.

Lois looked him over. "Well Cowboy Lana has been filling me in on a few tales from your misspent youth.

"Really Kent you are enduring mystery." She added watching Lana's face registering shock and confusion.

"May I join you?" Clark asked.

Lana looked at him. She frowned deeply. Then recovering from her evident surprise, she stood up and gave him a warm hug.

"Clark Kent I swear I would not have recognized you. Glasses? When did you start wearing glasses, and this suit, I don't know...

"I can't get over how different you look."

"Well Lana you look great." Clark replied pushing his glasses back up his nose. "It's been a couple of years or so you know since we last saw each other.

"What are you doing in Metropolis? Last I heard you were in New York?"

"I've enrolled in Metropolis University." Lana grinned.

Clark did not try to hide his surprise at this news. Lois noted the look on his face, this apparently was the last thing Kent had been expecting. That made her smile a little.

"Medicine?" Clark asked.

"Yes."

"Your father must be proud of you."

"Not sure about _that_ Clark, I think finishing school was supposed to be a springboard into marrying a good doctor, not becoming one myself."

"I'm sure you will make a great doctor Lana."

"Funny Clark, Dad always said the same of you."

There followed an awkward silence. Finally Lois said. "Are you sitting down Clark – or just hovering. Oh by the way, how were your folks?"

"Dad is doing much better Lois thanks."

"Your mom didn't say anything about your dad being sick, at least not when I spoke with her yesterday."

Clark played with the rim of his hat.

"Errr well Lana, Well Pa, he's doing okay - it's just a touch of angina, but he and mom, well they aren't getting any younger, and I worry about them you know."

"Of course Clark." Lois began sweetly. "We were just sitting here wondering where have you really been the last few days – you weren't in Maryland when Lana rang your folks?"

Clark replied without missing a beat. "Oh you know Lois how it is with us guys, I've been spending time down a deep dark cave, what is it you like to say, you can take man out the caves, but not caveman out a man."

"Fine Clark." Lois said brightly, while looking at Lana. "It's not like you owe me an explanation or anything." She got up, and said as she moved to leave. "I'll see you back at the office – when you are ready to do some work."

Lana waited until Lois had left. "Clark I really get the sense that there is something that you aren't telling me."

-'S'-

Lex Luthor felt exhilarated, there was nothing like the unexpected to inject excitement into the daily cycle of experimentation and analysis; and this meeting was most unexpected.

The concrete chamber was dimly lit, this it seemed was a politeness - an accommodation for the Nazi's guest.

Seated around the conference table were faces he recognized from his dealings with the SS; there were officers in uniform, some men of science like himself, all were working under the auspices of Project Ahnenerbe. Officiating was the head of the operation, namely Heinrich Himmler.

The Project was publicly a Nazi German think tank that promoted itself as a, study society for Intellectual Ancient History, but in reality was a complex and highly secretive organization – whose interests did include linguistics and archaeology; but whose purpose was to acquire occult knowledge, to push the boundaries of science in pursuit of the ideal Aryan world domination, something the society firmly believed had once been an historical fact.

Their honoured guest was seated across from the bald American emigrate, and it's features fascinated Luthor. Scales and feathers seem to confirm the evolutionary relationship between birds and reptiles. The Annunki appeared to be highly perturbed.

"We have lost contact with the Fourth Vault." It sang.

The Vice Admiral of Kriegsmarine, Karl Dönitz, commanding officer to the U-Boat fleet spoke.

"Our boat returned from the Fourth Vault without incident. Emerging at the expected co-ordinates."

Himmler himself addressed the reptilian. "Lord Solateedoh, my men reported unusual activity during their visit." The bespectacled leader glanced as his notes.

"Sturmbannführer Brommann noted large numbers of your warrior caste moving at great haste to a central location. However no explanation was given for this."

Himmler turned to Lex. "Herr Luthor, the meteorite rock was all that you expected?"

"Yes Sir. Preliminary tests are very positive."

The Annunki's head feathers flickered. "I am pleased that you are happy Herr Himmler. We are not happy.

"The Grand Council of the Annunki demands you share whatever knowledge you have of this Superman."

"So it was Superman." Luthor stated. "The movement of soldiers, the loss of your East Coast American underworld. This was Superman's doing?"

The Annunki turned and glared at Luthor. "That is our belief."

Himmler smiled. "Herr Luthor perhaps you should outline your work – briefly."

Lex understood the game that was being played.

"Briefly Sir, very well." He turned to the Annunki. "I am experimenting with the building blocks of life, specifically I am working with cells from a sample of the American Superman's blood."

The Annuki let out an long hiss. Then Solateedoh said. "The meteorite we gave you, this element has an effect on this powerful surfacer."

"It has an effect on any one, as any radioactive rock – given enough time, will inevitably have." Luthor suggested with a wry smile. He understood there was more to this.

The Annunki feathers flickered once more, and it snapped. "The Surfacer Superman was made very weak by these rocks, more so than you would be. His reaction was uniquely strong."

Himmler turned to Luthor. "Herr Doctor is that surprising?"

"No Sir. It is not surprising." Luthor answered. "In fact I would expect that to be the case."

"We want all your results." The Annunki demanded.

Himmler smiled. "Yes that is not a problem." He said warmly, adding with serious intent. "_Provided_ we are given access to your dimensional porting technology."

The Annunki feathers shot upwards, like a cockatoo Luthor thought.

"The Dimensional Potral devices are ancient, a legacy of the old times, and they cannot be replicated – or replaced. The loss of the Fourth Vault included the destruction of it's Portal – it means we have no effective means of moving our forces to that place.

"What you asking for is not possible."

Himmler frowned. "The Fuhrer will not be pleased.

"Never the less it is the situation." The Annuki said. "We demand that you assist us to reclaim our territory."

"Then you must assist us. Lord Solateedoh, we can hardly invade the United States at this time; but with your help...perhaps once Europe is brought to heel, we can."

The Annunki placed it taloned hands on the table, the pale scales starkly contrasted against the dark wood.

"We have already demonstrated – how do you say – good faith; we provided you with your meteorites."

"And we have already begun shipping subhumans from Greater Germany to your European Vault." Himmler responded.

"This Superman has cost us an important territory!" The Annunki spat. "He has cost us a precious Portal – the legacy of the old times!"

The thin man adjusted his wire framed glasses, and firmly explained.

"The Fuhrer's concerns lay with the legacy of these current times, the glory of the Third Reich."

Solateedoh hissed. "We must insist you share Doctor Luthor's findings Herr Himmler."

"Come Lord Solateedoh you surely must understand that an alliance like ours is built on exchange of benefits. Now you, your Grand Council must ask itself, what value does it place on the work of Doctor Luthor.

"The question is what are you willing to exchange for his findings."

The Annunki Ambassador sat silent for a moment. "Very well I will communicate with the Grand Annunki Council.

"I am sure we will be able to come to mutually agreeable exchange."

-'S'-

The night sky above Washington D.C. was filled with stars. Superman swept past the Washington Monument, in split seconds he inspected the city scape beneath him, before arriving at his destination; 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW. He gained entry to the oval office via the door to the Rose Garden. He signalled his arrival at the White House by a rat-a-tat on the frame.

Inside the distinctive elliptical room, waited General 'Edwin Pa' Watson, aide, secretary, and confident to the President of the United States, beside him was Colonel Leslie Groves – the head of Alsos, the umbrella organization for super-science research and development, and seated behind the Resolute Desk was Franklin Delano Roosevelt, thirty-second President of the United States.

The two officers stood up as Superman entered. Roosevelt cast a wide smile, taking a cigarette and holder from his mouth the President said.

"Welcome young man. Take a seat." Roosevelt gestured towards an arm chair across from two military men.

Once the Man of Steel was seated the President continued.

"I'm just re-reading this report you wrote for Colonel Grove."

"I'm staggered by your account of these subterranean creatures. To think the Nazi's had allies under our feet – well it is just unbelievable."

"I assure you Sir, everything I have told Alsos is true."

FDR nodded. "Son, if we did not believe you, you would not be here. Your record speaks for itself. Besides a conversation with you is long overdue. As I see it America already owes you a great debt of thanks."

"I have only done what I believed to be right Mr President."

"For which you deserve recognition. Recognition this Office cannot give you at this time."

"Sir, I don't do what I do for that reason."

FDR nodded. "Which is good to hear, because for now you are more useful to this country as a shadow, a myth and a legend.

"There will come a time, soon I fear when America - indeed the free world will need your special talents; to best make use of you, America needs to treat your existence, your cooperation with this Office as matter of National security.

"I have instructed Colonel Grove along those lines."

"Superman." Began General Watson. "We're aware you have a relationship with two reporters, Kent and Lane, of the Metropolis Daily Star."

Superman held up his hand. "I don't show favouritism Sir."

"Never the less the Star has reported your exploits."

"Such is the freedom of the press."

"Which is subject to the conscience, and patriotism of each man." Colonel Grove observed.

"Son don't get us wrong here." FDR said. "We're not criticizing what you do, nor would I expect you to stand aside while there is injustice, but we are asking to cooperate with us in these dark times."

"I am an American Mr President."

General Watson spoke.

"The telephone you answered to set up this meeting, it is sited on the Daily Star building isn't it?"

"It is Sir. Colonel Lane has relationship with the Editor of the Daily Star, George Taylor. It seemed a logical place given it's central commanding place on the the Metropolis skyline."

FDR scribbled something on the papers before him, before closing the papers within the file cover.

"Your report suggests these reptile like creatures might not even be of this earth. To be honest with you... Superman I have advice on my desk that makes the same allegation about you.

"Superman frankly these same voices are not comfortable with the arrangement Colonel Lane made with you.

"I need to know who you are and where you come from. America needs to know if there are any more like you.

"And if so – which side are they on?

Superman looked the sickly President of the United States in the eye.

"My name is Kal-El, I am the last survivor of a Planet called Krypton, which was destroyed in a natural disaster a life time ago.

"There are no more like me, no one. I am last son of Krypton. The sole survivor of my people.

"My Parents sent me to earth as a baby, much like Moses was sent down the Nile. I was raised an American, by Americans – I have known no other home, but my adopted home, my loyalties lie here, and no where else."

FDR sat back in his chair.

"I appreciate your candour. So let me be candid with you.

"Can you evidence this?"

Superman shook his head. "Krypton is gone. I came here as a infant."

Groves lent forward. "Surely there is your rocket ship?"

"It was damaged during my escape to Earth, and it has not survived. Only personal messages from my late parents remain – enough for me to learn of my origins, nothing more."

Watson clearly considered this all too convenient, but he let it pass for now. "What of you? Were you really just abandoned as baby to chance?"

"Yes I was." Superman replied. "Of course you can plainly see I don't require technology to sustain me in the same way you do."

Watson frowned.

"General, forgive me, but when it's cold you need your coat to keep you warm, when the sun shines a hat to protect your head, these are simple technologies of course, but I don't need anything, even the simplest of things. In fact I don't need to eat or sleep."

Superman's declaration of independence from the mundane realities of the human condition clearly surprised the three men. The last thing Superman wanted was the government questioning his elderly parents. His identity as Clark Kent had to be safe guarded. Superman broke the short silence by saying.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, my word and the evidence of my actions is all I am able to bring to the table."

Again the room fell silent.

"There will continue to be voices that will caution against you." The President eventually replied. "But I need not listen to their advice." He declared clearly having reached a conclusion.

"Providence has determined that you came to us in this our greatest hour of need.

"America needs you Kal-El. America needs Superman.

"This maybe a long time coming, but officially on behalf of the United States of America, welcome to our world Kal-El of Krypton."

"Sir with respect to my long dead heritage, I myself remember first hand no other home but America."

"Very well then; welcome Superman of Earth, and let the record state, American citizen, with all the privileges and duties that entails."

-'S'-

Hienrich Himmler drank the hot tea, across from him the leader of the third Reich instructed his dog to lay down before he too, sipped from his cup.

Hitler relaxed in his often used tea-house, a round main room built in a wooded area on Mooslahnerkopf hill, with outstanding views across the small Berchtesgaden valley, it lay at the end of a mostly forested path about half a mile from the Berghof, Hilter's main residence, which lay close to the border with Austria.

Seated in a comfortable chair the Fuhrer overlooked of the whole valley, and he often met high ranking party officials here.

With him was the womanizer and propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels. A short man in height, but possessing great stature in the Reich and a close confidant of the Fuhrer, despite his personal failings.

"What our are Allies proposing to give us?" Hitler asked the SS General. The dictator of Greater Germany looked across his wire eye glasses, his voice was pitched differently from his distinctive powerful public style, still there was a hint of urgency, of excitement, and a roughness that betrayed his simple roots.

"They are still refusing to discuss the trans-dimensional portal device. It is simply not on the table."

Hitler frowned. "Why?"

"It appears to be an almost religious conviction on their part"

Hitler snorted derisively

"But." Himmler continued. "They are prepared to share with us the details of a form of magnetic propulsion – an anti-gravity device that would revolutionize air warfare."

Himmler passed to his superior a sheaf of papers, typed sheets that included drawings and schematics of proposed air vehicles based on the Annunki's own designs.

"This technology would give us the ability to build craft with the speed and the range to strike anywhere in the world."

The Fuhrer nodded. "That is something that does sound interesting." He passed the file across to Goebbels.

The smaller man skimmed through the pages. "I note that there is an important caveat here." He directed Hitler's attention to the file once more saying.

"An experienced test pilot who was invited to fly with the Reptilians was soon rendered unconscious."

Himmler nodded. "The Annunki are biologically very different to humans in important ways. A whale for example can dive to great depths that would be challenging even for a U-boat, in the same way the Annunki can endure the extreme ways these craft manoeuvre in flight."

Hitler frowned. "This is something that can be overcome?"

"With research I am sure this unique propulsion technology will prove useful."

Himmler replied.

Hitler nodded. "Then much like Herr Luthor's work we must wait.

"With the British looking to Scandinavia, the Royal Navy's blockade seeks to deny us Sweden's Iron ore, and with the old war dog Churchill barking as First Lord of the Admiralty, Germany must act – we cannot afford to wait." Then coming to a decision he turned to the SS's leading General.

"Very well. Give these creatures the information and co-operation they are asking us for; and we will see if these flying discs prove viable. In the meantime let us discuss Operation Weserübung."

-'S'-

Taylor sucked on his cigarette. "Okay Lane, this is how it is going to be, you and Kent are booked on a fast ship across the Atlantic, I'm sending you both to Europe.

"What's coming through the wire is that the Germans are moving – Hitler has sent forces into neutral Denmark."

Kent shook his head. "Looks like this phoney war is over."

"Too right Kent. This means in all certainty that Norway is next, then maybe Sweden, the British will have to try and stop this."

"Swell." Lois replied. "The balmy North Sea. You know how I've been looking forward to a vacation for a long time – I'll pack my swim suit." She said sarcastically.

Clark pulled a face. "Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy it! I mean between all the bombs dropping, and bullets flying – it'll be a blast."

"Don't worry Cowboy I'll hold your horse and stop her from bolting." Lois suggested.

"Here are your tickets." Taylor stated pushing across the printed slips. "You are booked on the Baronta, she sails from Metropolis tonight, docks in Southampton, England."

"What then Chief, do you want us to make our way to Denmark?" Clark asked.

Taylor fixed the younger man with tired eyes. "That Kent will depend on the course of the war."

"What can happen in a week or so?" Lois asked.

Taylor shook his head. "Call me when you reach Southampton." He paused. "War Lois - it's an uncertain business."

-'S'-

Luthor walked down the darkened passage with the Annunki. He was told this was the same creature he had met previously, an 'ambassador', it called itself Solateedoh.

The facility was all but evacuated of personal, this visit was above top secret, only Luthor was accompany the reptilian during it's visit. His eyes alone would see Solateedoh for who he was.

The reptilian had arrived in the dead of night, Luthor determined the creature wished to avoid sunlight. It wore a heavy outer robe with an enveloping hood, it's pale hands were hidden inside long sleeves. Before greeting him the Annunki had to first remove what appeared to be a delicate gas mask.

It moved as if the surface world was toxic – avoiding contact with anything and everything where ever possible.

Luthor's mind worked in overdrive, so many myths and legends he reasoned could have had there inspiration in these subterranean lords of the underworld.

"We are grateful for you cooperation in this matter." Solateedoh sang.

Luthor smiled. "I am interested in what you can bring to my project. I am told your technology is principally based on biological engineering."

"Indeed, we have long manipulated living things to serve our needs; as you surfacers have in more recent times done also."

"Yes but you have gone beyond domestication. Where we shape wood with metal tools, you take the living organism and make it grow as you require."

"Yes."

Luthor laughed. "That is something that fascinates me, and for that reason alone I think your input to this project will be invaluable."

The Annunki nodded it's serpentine head.

"Forgive me Lord Solateedoh, but what is your taxonomy?"

The Annunki hissed – was it a laugh, Luthor wasn't sure.

He persisted. "You appear to my eyes to be like a reptile, and yet you have feathers like a bird, evolution suggests one gave rise to the other."

Solateedoh paused and turned it's dark amber eyes to stare directly down into Luthor's.

"Our ancestors ruled the surface of this world for one hundred and forty million years."

"The dinosaurs." Luthor commented.

"Indeed." The creatures feathers were literally ruffled by the Latin - 'terrible lizard', but the Annunki accepted it as a necessary evil, adding with a hiss. "But you surfacers are wrong to consider birds and dinosaurs to be distinct, it is more correct to describe birds as avian dinosaurs."

Luthor saw no reason to dispute this – though he knew many palaeontologists would.

"Then how is it you came to live in the underworld?" He asked.

The Annunki hissed again, Luthor felt comfortable with notion that it was laughing.

"Where are we in the fossil record?" Solateedoh asked. Correctly anticipating Luthor's train of thought.

The Annunki's feathers flickered. "You are breeding at incredible rate. There are many of you, there has never been many of us, we have always been few in number; but we live, well - shall I say we live in human terms a very long time."

Luthor noted the creature seemed unhappy about the rising human population, but certainly so far it's explanation made sense, long lifespans were common in reptiles. An intelligent species would probably control breeding, for cultural and or practical reasons, meaning the longer the Annunki lived – perhaps centuries - then the greater the time between the present and necessary next generation; this would limit the creatures numbers.

He said."Ah, I see, then the chances of finding fossils of your kind would be slim."

"Slim? - Probably impossible. Our ancient funeral practices would make it so."

Luthor noted this, concluding they must destroy their bodies after death.

"Then why retreat underground?" Luthor asked as they reached his laboratory.

Solateedoh walked through the door Lex held open, dipping it's head under the frame.

Once inside it answered him with a question.

"Come Doctor Luthor why would we retreat underground."

"I would speculate the reason must have been environmental."

"Interesting." Solateedoh replied.

Luthor took this as invitation to speculate.

"The deep underworld provides a contained and constant environment." Luthor observed.

"You are largely correct, the conditions on the surface became untenable.

"Once we had established our Vaults we found little reason to leave, in fact the conditions we created improved our health, extended our longevity."

"What was it, the great extinction that killed the dinosaurs, was it cold, or disease?"

"It is true the climate during your species short life has been unstable."

It was not a full answer, but Lex reasoned the creatures would not want to draw attention to the inerrant weaknesses of it's kind.

Solateedoh wandered across to where Luthor's assistants had set up a bank of microscopes.

"These are the samples?" The reptilian asked.

Luthor nodded.

Peering down the eye pieces of one and then another at the prepared slides, the Annunki hissed occasionally.

"The cells could not be encouraged to duplicate – until that is, we exposed them to light filtered through the crystalline meteor rock you kindly provided."

"That is the device?" Solateedoh asked pointing to something that at first glance looked like bulky film camera.

"Yes, the lead lined box contains the crystalline material, which in turn reacts to a light source, re-emitting light radiation, which can be focused using the lens onto the cells.

"Provided they are exposed they multiply exponentially."

"And have you introduced the genetic material into a zygote for implantation?"

"That is my intention. Of course the problem is one of nature, I can create clone embryos – and with luck perhaps one of these might grow and survive to term, the problem is one of nature.

"It takes years to grow a man."

Solateedoh turned and hissed, his forked tongue flickered. "That is something I might be able to help you with."

-'S'-

Hitler looked out across his vast office nearly four and half thousand square feet in size. In 1938, Hitler had ordered his favourite architect Albert Speer to build the New Reich Chancellery in Berlin. This vast study was a favourite of the Fuhrer. Here he met with his close advisers.

"Operation Weserübung has begun successfully." the chief of the German Kriegsmarine, Grand Admiral Erich Raeder, explained.

"At 04:20 local time, one thousand infantrymen were landed in Copenhagen. Our troops were quickly victorious capturing the Citadel and it's garrison without encountering resistance, although Danish forces mounted a stout defence of their King at the Palace."

Hermann Goering Oberkommando – the leader of the Luftwaffe, the German Aircraft interjected haughtily. "Their politicians were told that the Luftwaffe would smash Copenhagen, and the Danish government capitulated."

"The invasion of Norway is progressing acceptably." Admiral Raeder added. "We expect greater resistance aided by the British who have been operating in the North Sea to frustrate us for some time - but we also expect victory."

Hitler nodded. He studied the written casualty figures before him. The report was not entirely satisfactory, the invasion of Norway had been stalled by the sinking of a heavy cruiser Blücher in the narrows of Oslo harbour, such was the nature of war, the Dictator reflected.

"Joseph, this man Quisling." Hitler asked Goebbels. "Do you believe he will form a government – one that will work with us?"

"I am sure of it. Our embassy staff expect him to act immediately. We expect him to broadcast his coup d'etat at any time."

In due course the officials left the room. Leaving Himmler, Goebbels and Goering beside the opulent desk of the Fuhrer.

"Gentlemen, let us discuss other matters." Hitler began. "What of our other project? Project Wotan?" The moustached dictator asked his hand rested on the casualty report, upward of a thousand souls had perished when the heavy cruiser Blücher had gone down under Norwegian fire.

The bespectacled Himmler smiled understanding the Führer's thoughts. "All progresses well – in accordance with the basic principle of the blood, even in death our glorious warriors assure us victory." The General's words echoing his Führer's rhetoric.

Hitler laughed. His own religion was essentially expedience. "What of concrete results?" His disdain for anything less – especially from the esoteric work which co-existed under the umbrella organization that was Project Ahnenerbe – was clearly established.

Himmler nodded, saying. "Mien Fuhrer early in the genesis of Project Ahenerbe we determined a means to measure the spiritual energy of our people.

"Project Wotan demonstrates this can be captured, this energy of the Aryan volk – and directed."

Goebbels nodded. His own expertise lay in the art of propaganda. "The measure of the nation, of this project, has required that we do not judge it successes by merely artistic or military standards or even by purely scientific ones."

Hitler became animated. "The struggle is this; to recapture what has been lost in a thousand years of warfare, to perpetuate a thousand year Reich.

"The decisive factor is not the ratio of strength but the spiritual force employed. For this reason we determined to create Wotan anew – Wotan, who will be the god of the Third Reich, not that damned Jew, because miracles will follow Wotan's servants. Any thing less is unacceptable."

Himmler nodded. "Mien Fuhrer, you will have your miracles – you have my word."


	46. Chapter 46

"You lied to me Clark Kent." Lois stated coolly, the ice clinked in her bourbon.

Kent touched his glasses self consciously. He sipped the Martini in his hand, unlike the lady reporter the series of drinks following dinner on board the Steamship Baronta had not gone to his head.

"I don't know what you mean Lois."

Her violet eyes flashed back at him. Clark continued quickly. "Err I mean to say, I didn't say – you only assumed, and..."

"A lie by omission doesn't count is that it Kent?"

Lois had not pursued this line of questioning since meeting Lana, now out of the blue – or so it seemed to Clark, she now pressed him hard about his past. On board the Baronta he had no where to run.

Lois drove home her advantage. "Just how old are you – come on Cowboy, your reticence about Hicksville is getting – well old, what are you hiding?"

Clark frowned, he had anticipated that close quarters on board ship might present new challenges for his partnership with the perceptive Lane, but tonight she was like a terrier with a bone, and she was not about to let up.

"You're bored Lois, and getting cabin fever. I don't talk about my life in Smallville because frankly I've always thought you'd find my rural roots boring – I guess it's a measure of how bored you've become cooped up on this ship - that you feel the need to interrogate me over this now."

Lois downed the last of her drink, the heavy bottomed glass landed purposefully on the table between them.

"Lana Lang is a slip of a girl, and she was your classmate. Yet you've let the office think you were a good deal older. Just what game are you playing here mister?

"Going by what Lana was saying you're almost the same age as Jimmy!"

Clark looked her straight in the eye, his stare was direct and open. "Lois I come from the farm, as it happens initially I was home schooled, before starting the school in Smallville later on." This much was true. "I've already told you I was adopted – and the truth is I have no idea how old, in as many years - I really am." Again this much was true – how do you measure time across inter-dimensional space? How may human lifetimes had passed during his transit between universes. These things he wondered to himself – while continuing his self justification.

"I also left school early as it were – Lana told you that much too. I can't help it if Lana thinks of me as a contemporary, to be fair I was – we were in the same classes, but as for my age," Clark shrugged, "I don't know, my parents don't know.

"Look all I know is that I was this average sized kid that grew up all of a sudden, but when the dust bowl happened, well a lot of us did – we had to."

Lois stood up. "Fine. I still think... I don't know. You're a odd one Kent, there's something I can't put my finger on.

"I need some air." She said finally.

She picked up her fur stole. Clark had already risen politely to his feet. "And some alone time." She added.

-'S'-

Gio Zatara sucked on his smoke, the red tip burned bright in the darkness.

"Doctors." He said, blowing smoke. "We're becoming a cliché. Men in trench coats meeting in a dark alley."

"Doctor Occult." Zatara shook the first man's hand. He in turn looked at the G-Man from under the broad brim of his Fedora, Occult's chiselled features looked stark in the moonlight. "This location lays at an intersection of Earth Energies." The older Mystery Man explained.

"That makes it a fitting place to meet." The third man noted shaking Zatara's hand in turn.

"Doctor Fate." Gio greeted him, or is it Doctor Nelson - archaeologist tonight?

"Bit of both I guess." Nelson replied.

"Your right Kent, this is a fitting place to meet." Zatara agreed, "but still, I'd prefer somewhere more comfortable."

Kent Nelson laughed. "If I was chairing this get together I think I'd have provided chairs.

"Perhaps I should..." he began his hands began to glow with a golden light.

Then from the shadows emerged a fourth ghostly figure.

"Doctor Fate, as considerate as your intentions are – such magic in this time and place is unnecessary."

Taking form the green caped and cowled figure's chalk white face appeared before them. His voice echoed deep within the heart and mind's of each man.

"James, I'm grateful you were able to join us." Doctor Occult stated.

The Spectre nodded. "I am compelled by common purpose to be here."Fate began, hiding his suspicions behind polite civility, saying. "You Sir," have me at a disadvantage, James..."

"Corrigan." Occult replied on the Spectre behalf.

"The Avenging Angel has taken human form." Kent Nelson observed, his preternatural occult knowledge grasping who Corrigan had been chosen to become.

Zatara coughed with surprise, he too understood who the Avenging Angel was, and looking directly at the hooded ghostly figure recognised the face and the name. "Corrigan, _Detective_ Jim Corrigan."

"It is complicated." The Spectre replied.

"I'd say it is." Zatara agreed. "Especially given that you're dead."

"I have found death to be of little consequence."

"James, if you would be so kind." Doctor Occult asked without explanation. The Spectre did not seem to need any as his cape billowed out around him and they sank into the hard pavement beneath their feet as if it were a mist rising to meet them, until darkness blanketed them.

Light from Fate's hands illuminated the nether world, an wooded landscape extending beyond the horizon. Around him, Nelson's trench coat unfolded into a fluttering golden cape, his face disappeared behind the light, now obscured by a similar golden helm, worn over a royal blue close fitting body suit, adorned with a golden belt and ending in golden boots.

"I fail to see why the Spectre should possess the only cape in the room." He stated crafting from the golden light in his fingers, glowing chairs for each of the men present.

"These maybe unnecessary." He said. "But I find the unnecessary things in life are sometimes the most important."

Zatara laughed, appreciating Fate's sentiment and as an unspoken act of agreement he added his own signature; with a flourish threw his cigarette into the midst of the arranged seats where it followed his backward spoken words exploding into a crackling fire, from which warmth and light blazed into the vast nothingness of the Spectre's nether worldly room.

Fate settled into the magically generated armchair. "Interesting." He said, taking in the subtleties of his surroundings. "We are no longer in time, but rather this is the shadow of the past – these ghostly trees stood here before Metropolis rose and concreted over the land, before men walked into America.

"We are even seated at ground level as it was in this time."

"Ever the Archaeologist Kent." Gio chuckled, taking his seat, joined by Dr Occult. The Spectre this time raised no objection, rather he, ghost like, walked through the remaining golden chair before becoming solid once more and sitting down into it.

Fate pressed his fingers together. Zatarra waited. The Spectre was ever so still like a marble statue; lifeless but imposing.

Doctor Occult removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair. "Gentlemen, James has graciously taken us into the shadows of things that once were, so removed from our present times, where the forces of evil work."

"Here we can talk freely, and unobserved." Doctor Fate agreed.

"I have called you here because the purpose behind the theft of the Spear of Destiny is finally revealed, and it is a dark purpose that will unleash destruction and chaos on the world.

"The Nazi's have crafted themselves an olden god."

Doctor Occult let the gravity of his words sink in.

"And before this decade ends they mean to dominate the world.

"We have the advantage of operating in the shadows, because we are not yet known to the world, the attention of the Nazi's war machine will be directed at visible targets; but I fear it is only a matter of time before even our sphere of influence falls sway to their new sciences."

Finally the uncomfortable silence was broken by Doctor Fate. "What of the peoples champion, this Superman?" Kent Nelson asked. "Doesn't he just undermine the whole idea of Aryan ubermesch superiority?"

"That he does." Occult agreed. "And for that reason he is a primary target.

"Each of us works in the shadows, Superman is all about light and spectacle, he gives the common man hope."

"Superman is incredibly powerful, for a mortal man, unbelievably so, but he is a man." Zatara replied, his voice heavy with regret.

"What the Nazi's are unleashing on the world is not in any way mortal." Doctor Occult stated, echoing his friends fears.

Fate understood this, it was as he had surmised. "Then Superman is vulnerable to this new god's immortal power – as all mortal men are." Nelson looked to the Spectre.

"I must obey the Voice that directs my purpose." He answered.

The other three understood the limits of the Spectre's otherwise incredible powers.

"Then what can _we_ do?"

"Divide and conquer." Occult replied. "I will continue to work in the shadow worlds. The Spectre is free to travel between dimensions. While Gio has already established himself in law enforcement."

"And I must concentrate my energies in the substantial world – such is my mission." Fate replied. Saying. "I shall go out and assist the new heroes that are arising in Superman's wake. For it is a new age of Heroes and Villains, one the world has not witnessed for millennia."

Doctor Occult nodded. "Indeed we understand each other."

"What of Superman?" Zatara asked. "What will become of him?"

Occult shrugged. "Mortal man's life is short and full of tears. That is the Hero's journey."

"Sacrifice." Fate stated.

"What you mean is you are both as blind as I am!" Zatara spat frustrated. "That beyond the German tyrant wanting his head on a plate, we have no idea what is going to happen."

Neither Occult nor Fate denied his accusation.

Doctor Occult nodded. " Yes this is the strangest of times, where the future is no longer tangible and as fixed – it has become akin to this fire before us, flickering and without substance, but entirely dangerous."

"Superman will attract to him all the ire and wrath of Third Reich, and the demons unleashed by it's perverse sciences." The Spectre said without emotion.

"How can a mortal man, even a super man withstand such magics?" Zatara asked the Spectre directly.

"He cannot." The one who had been Jim Corrigan replied.

"Then will you help him – you are the agent of Vengeance – are you not?" Gio pressed the chalk white man, understanding the Spectre's unique otherworldly status, did not stop Gio wishing him to be more proactive in these dark days.

"It is not yet my war."

"Then whose is it?" Zatara demanded.

"The World's." The chalk lips answered.

"What mortal in the substantial world could hope to stand beside this Superman, to keep pace with him, to be his equal and not just a liability?"

The Spectre rose upwards leaving them but saying as he drifted into insubstantial mist. "An immortal one."

-'S'-

"Mr Lombard, Sir! Isn't that Jay Garrick." Jimmy Olsen pointed to a young man stood among the Keystone City Lightening's Football team.

Curly Lombard and Olsen were watching the arrival of the sportsmen to Metropolis West Station looked across to where the cub reporter was pointing.

"Yeah that's Garrick." He replied. Shoving forward with his press card in hand, Lombard pushed his way towards the sportsmen.

"Hey Jay! Metropolis Daily Star. How's that knee?"

Garrick looked up, pushed his hair back and smiled, but shrugged, raising up a walking stick. "Still sore."

The group of young athletes looked at the disheveled news-hound with undisguised amusement, if Lombard noticed he did not show it.

"So you're just along for the ride, we won't be seeing you out on the field for this special Testimonial match against the Metropolis Sharks?"

Garrick shook his head, and with a wry smile said. "You'd have to ask the coach about that."

Lombard dug deep and hard. "So will you ever be back on the field?"

Garrick did not react.

"Knees can be tricky." Lombard persisted.

The heavy set coach of the team put himself between Garrick and Lombard. Shouting happened.

Olsen ignored the fracas, it was clear there was nothing to be gained from it, instead he fixed his camera on reputedly the fastest feet in college football, Garrick leant on his cane however and his hand took hold of a pretty young blonde girl.

"Come on Joan, let's split."

"Mr Garrick!" Olsen called out.

Jay looked over and smiled at the freckled faced youth.

Pop! The bulb went off as Jimmy snapped his shot of the happy couple amidst the throng of broad shouldered footballers.

"Flash and you're done is that it?" Garrick joked.

Jimmy smiled.

"See you at the game?" Jay asked.

"Sure." Oslen said as Garrick and Joan moved away.

Jay looked back and said. "It'll be - Flash and I'm done too."

-'S'-

Steve Trevor restlessness was growing, the hospital where he was been kept was about the strangest place he had ever seen.

His first thought was to dismiss this as a dream, but as his strength returned to him, so he found he remained conscious for longer periods, and as he fought to stay awake, he decided the Doric columns and marble floors and walls were real enough.

Wrapping himself in the sheet from his bed he eased to his feet, and stepped to the window beside him, from where he could hear the sound of surf breaking.

Leaning on the ledge Trevor looked out to sea, the sun shone reflecting off a golden beach, lush tropical and sub tropical flowers, shrubs and trees dotted the landscape; and half naked women cavorted around in flimsy silk dresses.

Yes. Trevor thought to himself, if being dead meant that stone felt hard and cool underfoot, that his fingernails could dig into the flesh of his hands, and the sun could warm his face while a sea breeze cooled his skin, then this must be some kind of heaven.

To be fair cavorting was a poetic description. The women approached carrying bags, they laughed and smiled to each other, intent on their conversation, so much so they were not aware he was watching them, that their path brought them past the window where Trevor now stood, leading on towards a impressive Temple like building beyond.

"Hello ladies!" Steve called out, waving.

The magic spell was broken.

One of the women dropped the bag she was carrying, something inside broke, and liquid leaked through the canvass onto the stone path.

More striking was the sheer horror on the faces of her friends.

Their soft warm tones changed and they shouted and ran from him. Trevor was stunned, was it shock, horror, or disgust? Or was it all three.

The language sounded like Greek to him, but he was not sure. That made no sense – while the tropical island was understandable, he had been flying in the vicinity of Bermuda, the language and architecture did not fit. Steve chose not to dwell on what he had seen immediately before the crash, because that did not make sense either, not at all.

He stood watching the puddle of colourless liquid seep out around the dropped and abandoned bag spread slowly across the stone in the sun.

"Where on Earth am I." He said to himself.

"Themyscira."

Trevor turned, still unsteady on his feet, his hand grasped the window sill firmly for support.

She was beautiful.

"Beautiful." He said, without really thinking.

Diana cocked her head to one side.

"Forgive me. I am still learning your language. I am not certain how to respond."

She held out her hand. "Handsome." She said.

Steve reached forward, his left hand still grasped the sill, his right took hers.

"Thanks." He said embarrassed. "My name is Steve Trevor."

"Diana." She replied as she shook his arm, firmly.

Too firmly, he winced.

"Guess I popped some ribs when I came down... Did the plane make it?"

Diana looked back at him blankly.

"No – of course it couldn't have."

Trevor collapsed back onto the bed. He sat there and sighed. "I can't believe it, standing for a couple of minutes makes me feel like I've been on forced march in full kit."

"You are weak. But you are much stronger than you were."

Steve wrapped an arm around his sore ribs, and looked at the woman who was learning his language.

"What's with the bathing suit?"

Again she met his question with blank incomprehension.

"Why would one need a suit to bathe in?" Diana asked.

"This is the strangest Hospital." Trevor said more to himself than her.

He looked at her though, how could he not, her long dark hair, fell across bare shoulders, her costume was red gold with a pair of the briefest blue and white star covered shorts he could imagine; that reminded him of old glory's star spangled banner.

No he reflected it was not a bathing suit, the bodice was made of leather and gold coloured metal, a stylised eagle on a red background.

She also wore a tiara-like crown.

"Are you a Queen?" Steve asked. It seemed a stupid question as he spoke it. Maybe it was the accident, he thought, smacked my head and now I'm speaking my thoughts without thinking.

Diana smiled. "The Queen is my Mother."

Trevor chuckled – thinking – and saying. "Now everything makes so much more sense, so that makes you a Princess?"

Diana nodded.

Steve laughed.

"What is funny?" Diana asked.

I have no idea where I am.

"Themyscira."

"Yes – but where is that?"

"Well you are not on Themyscira proper, rather on the Island of Healing."

"Yes – okay, when then do I get to go to Themyscira?" Steve stumbled over the odd sounding name.

Diana appeared surprised. "You do not. No man may set foot on Themyscira."

"You say that as if I should know."

Diana this time looked at him as if he were addled.

Trevor shook his head and winced.

"You should rest." Diana scolded. "The journey back to your America will be a long one."

"When?" Trevor demanded. Adding hastily. "You really mean that you are sending me back to the States?"

"Rest Steve Trevor." Diana told him.

Trevor recognised a voice of command, maybe she really is a Princess he though as he swung himself back onto the bed. "Okay Princess Beautiful, whatever you say Ma'am!"

"I need to get back home – if resting means I get there all the quicker, then rest I shall."

"I am honour bound to see that happens." Diana replied.

"Why?" Steve blurted out.

"Because I saved your life." She replied, and with that Diana left him more confused than ever.

-'S'-

"What are doing?" Lois demanded. "It's past midnight. Couldn't you sleep?"

Clark didn't turn to look at her. "I'm watching for U-boats." He replied.

"Sure like you're going see them with the naked eye." Lois countered. Then she asked. "You still sore with me?"

Clark turned this time, his soppy grin was caught in the ships lighting along the promenade deck. "I never was sore with you. It was the other way around, as I remember."

Lois leant on the rail beside him, she could make out the froth of the sea against the boats hull as the steamer ploughed eastward.

"If you were more open with me..."

Clark bit back. "Lois – do you know how many people I've ever told that I was adopted?"

"No. But I'm guessing not many."

"You'd be right."

"Well thanks for trusting me." Lois said finally.

Clark said nothing for a long moment – and then he turned to her. "Lois, everybody has secrets, things that they keep to themselves, it's part of what being human is – isn't it?"

It was a earnest question. Almost as if Clark was not sure what being human truly was. Lois was taken aback for a moment. "Of course Clark; but secrets aren't always best kept single handedly, a problem shared is a problem halved."

"Okay." Clark said. "My biggest problem is a gal called Lois Lane – what do you recommend I should do?"

"Shut up!" Lois laughed.

"Well I feel a lot better already." He noted.

"Night cap Clark?" Lois asked ignoring his jibe, and deciding to sue for peace.

"Sure thing." Clark said. "I'm done here."

"Oh sure, you're satisfied there are no U-boats gunning for us then."

Clark smiled. "Oh yes, we're okay for sure."

"Great." Lois replied with gentle sarcasm. "I'll sleep better for that, that and another bourbon."

-'S'-

"You say that the American is back on his feet?" Queen Hippolyta asked of her Daughter.

"Yes Mother." Diana answered. She wore the costume of her new office, the clothes of the Champion of Themyscira, it was an act of defiance – a statement of her new found status.

"He must be expelled." Philippus stated. Her mind ever that of the General. A man was a threat to security, to their paradise.

"I am aware that Trevor must leave this place, but I must ensure he arrives back with his own people." Diana countered. "To that end he had to be well enough to undertake the trip."

"I thought your Purple Ray had healed him?" Phillipus asked pointedly.

"It is an ongoing process, but yes he is much improved."

"Clearly it has worked well enough for him to leave his bed." Hippolyta noted. Quickly she made up her mind.

"I shall instruct a ship to made ready." She gestured to her General.

Then looking to Diana. Her eyes lingered on the costume of the Champion. "You shall sail in the morning." The Queen stated. Adding. "You are clearly anxious to begin your role as Champion and Ambassador.

"The Man can convalesce in bed aboard ship just as well as he might on the Island." Hippolyta determined.

Phillipus looked surprised. "Majesty. How is our ship to leave the Islands? How will the boundary between worlds be safely crossed?"

"That is a matter for the gods." Hippolyta stated. "That this can happen is evidenced by the Man's arrival, we will have to trust the gods who commanded Tournament, to appoint an Ambassador for an answer to that dilemma – after all Diana as our Ambassador is fated to leave us." The Queen's words were coloured with both regret, and faith in the guiding wisdom from Olympus.

Diana had long wondered about this problem herself, leaving Themyscira was not as straightforward as simply sailing away, there was a boundary between worlds to be breached, but she too accepted if this was the will of the gods, then the voyage would happen.

"I shall inform Steve Trevor. He is anxious to return to his home."

The Queen frowned. "It is not necessary. You should avoid all unnecessary fraternization with him and his kind, sunrise is soon enough."

"Am I not the Chosen Champion - Ambassador to Man's World?" Diana asked.

"Yes. That however does not change my instruction to you one iota regarding men."

Diana properly bowed her head. "As you command my Queen. As you say Mother."

As the Princess left her mother's presence, General Phillipus said to Hippolyta. "My Queen I fear she will do exactly as she wishes."

"I fear you are right old friend."

Leaving the Palace Diana strode purposefully into the courtyard where her horse awaited her, and with effortless grace she sprang into the saddle before driving her mare forward and out of the gates into the open countryside, eastwards towards the setting sun.

It was a magnificent sunset, a good omen Diana considered for her journey to Man's world and the western continent called the America's.

When her horse suddenly twisted beneath her, Diana was caught out, but not unaware, for her mind and body were as one, and as the poor animal bucked and snorted in fear, so she sailed upwards and somersaulted through the air, to land on her feet ahead of the startled horse.

"Shhhh now." Diana cooed. "Whatever startled you so?" She asked.

The horse snorted and took a step back and yet it pushed forward it's head towards her outstretched hand.

"I fear it is I who startled your mount."

Diana spun around. She recognised the baritone of a man's voice now, she had heard the American speak often enough, but this was not him.

The language was her own. The speaker as yet unidentified.

Diana struggled to see something she felt should be there in the twilight of the day, a figure, a man – a giant of a man.

So it was that shimmering in the fire of the setting sun, Diana saw the god Hermes take shape, and become substantial before her eyes. His winged helmet and sandals identified him, as did the staff he carried, the powerful symbol of his might - the Caduceus, a winged rod wrapped around about by twin entwined serpents.

Focusing on his statuesque form she fell to her knee in homage. "Lord Hermes. Only a god can set foot on the sacred ground of Themyscira unchallenged. Your humble servant bids you welcome."

"Child arise from your knees, I have business with you."

"I come bearing gifts from the gods."

Hermes had a bag hung from his shoulder. He reached into it with one hand and with the other he plucked from her head the crown of Amazon rank. Beside him the Cauduceus hovered free of his grip.

Hermes placed upon Diana's head a simple tiara of gold, with a single red ruby cut star.

"I crown you Champion of the Amazons and Ambassador of Themyscira.

"This tiara is god-made, forged from the Discus of Apollo, it will always strike true, and always return to your hand."

Diana bowed before Hermes, her hands placed together as in prayer, she acknowledged his gift. Then with alarm she found his hands taking hold of hers, fixing around her wrists, as the adamant bracelets of Themysciran manufacture fell away to the ground at his touch.

For a moment she was ashamed, she felt naked before him, but the moment passed as the cool touch of metal once again encased her wrists.

"These vambraces are forged from the Aegis Shield of Zeus himself, and they are indestructible."

"Great Hera!" Diana mouthed her shock and surprise. She felt weak and childlike before such divine generosity.

Hermes reached into the bag a third time and withdrew a golden rope made of the finest golden links.

"This Lasso is beaten from the Golden Girdle of Gaea and imbued with the fires of the goddess Hestia, it is unbreakable and whoever is bound by it cannot escape, whoever is bound by it is bound to tell the truth, and only the truth, no lie can pass their lips." This too Hermes passed to Diana.

"I cannot tell you how much this means..." She gasped.

Hermes then reached down and fluidly removed his own winged sandals, tucking them together, he gave these to Diana.

With these you will be able to pass freely the boundary between many worlds, between Themyscira, and the world beyond.

Diana held the sandals in her hands, they were huge, far to large for her more delicate feet. Her confusion was written in her face.

"All will become clear my Child." Hermes replied, with a wicked grin.

Then the moment was disturbed by the sound of horses, and jangle of Armour. Phillipus and the Royal Guard crashed into the clearing.

"Princess!" The General called out.

Diana stood her head bowed, her back turned to them.

"We saw fire fall like lightening from heaven, and there was a crash of thunder that shook the island."

"All is well." Hermes said.

For a second the Amazons struggled, with their skittish horses, and with their own senses, as they saw the visage of the god luminescent with their own eyes.

The General and her Guard fell from their mounts and down to their knees; yet even as they reacted with a flash of light the Herald of the gods was gone.

-'S'-

The game was close, incredibly guests were pressing hard at the Metropolis Sharks slim lead, but if the professionals could keep their heads the game was still theirs. Over at the Keystone City's line their Coach was gesturing to the bench, with barely enough time to make another play Jay Garrick was brought onto the field.

Oslen could see his knee was heavily strapped, but he seemed to be moving well enough. Moments later the ball was in play, the quarterback found Garrick with a beautifully aimed throw, but the distance to the line and the touchdown seemed way to far away, with no time left on the clock, then Garrick moved, he was a red blur across the field, dodging and weaving through the Sharks defence, almost unbelievably Jay was caught on the line, but not before the ball had touched downed, it was good, and the game was over, the visitors had won.

The stadium erupted as the crowd bellowed, sore the Sharks had lost, but stunned by the incredible sprint Garrick had put in across the field to score the winning touchdown.

Jay Garrick saluted the crowd, the tackle that had brought him down had clearly hurt his knee once more, he appeared uncomfortable as he waved, leaning on a team mate for support.

Curly dragged Olsen behind the scenes, he clearly knew a dodge or two, and greased a palm so a guy might look the other way. Letting Lombard into the dressing room of the Keystone City Lightening's. He made a bee line for Garrick.

"So Jay what is the story?"

The young sportsman shrugged. "I guess I was tempting fate."

"Come on Jay, what does this injury mean. Come on, give a Metropolis boy something – you took the match, haven't you a crumb for a Sharks fan?"

Garrick pulled off his jersey, he was wire – not an ounce of fat on his frame, Olsen had never seen someone so lean.

"Sure I can give you this, it's no great secret really, I'm going to have to call it a day."

Lombard grinned. His pleasure was clear, this was a story. "So you are quitting?"

"Like you said, knees are tricky things."

"So any back up plan in mind?"

Garrick just smiled. "Oh I imagine life will keep a guy like me busy one way or another."

Lombard was about to pose another question but the Lightening's Coach's voice roared a challenge across the changing room, having spotted the newsman, but on this occasion Lombard was happy enough to leave, after all he had a scoop, one that would sweeten the bitter taste of the defeat for Metropolis' football fans.

Olsen quickly found himself pushed out too, and then abandoned by the Star's sports reporter, as so much unnecessary baggage. His colleague chose a phone booth in a nearby bar to call in his story, and then to stay a while for a drink, leaving Jimmy to make his own way from the ground.

Following the crowds into the street, the young photographer was drawn by the noise of confrontation. Conscious that a story might break, the cub reporter watched as the tribal confrontation of the game had spilled into the city. A small grouping of rival fans had decided to set against each other, and the odds were stacked against the few jubilant Keystone City Lightenings supporters. It was not organised, but a spontaneous, yet these things have an order all of there own.

The combatants set themselves against one another like strutting cock birds shouting the odds and adding insults to the mix, the spectators form a loose circle around the spectacle and eventually, sooner rather than later the first blow is thrown, and chaos ensues in the midst of baying crowd.

At least that is what Olsen expected. Instinctively he raised his camera. 'click'

The red blur almost did not register, the crowd fell aside, driven apart by a wind, or so it seemed.

The inevitable first blow fell towards an equally angry face from the opposing side, it was hard in the commotion to recognise who was for Keystone City, who was a Metropolis Shark, but remarkably this blow did not find its mark. Instead there was the clear sounding solid clang of a fist striking metal.

'click'

Standing in the middle of the fight was a man in a tight red jersey, a golden lightening bolt banner stood out boldly on his chest. In his hand he held a metal helmet, adorned with gilded wings, and it was this that just like the man holding it, that had appeared out of no where blocking the thugs fist, ringing like a bell.

'click'

The riotous groups stood divided, by surprise, and by the man in red. His dark blue pants had a golden trim down the seam. His boots were decorated with wings also.

They could not understand where the man had appeared from.

Angrily cradling his hand in pain, the thug who had tired to throw the first punch, now kicked out and hit thin air, like a flash the man was gone, disappearing as suddenly as he had arrived, and then Jimmy watched as whirlwind seemed to appear from out of the air, swirling around the would be combatants, picking them up and tossing them around, then in a heartbeat the wind was gone, leaving in its wake the stunned dizzy men lying sprawled untidily on the street.

'click'

Just in time for the shrill whistles of the Metro PD to be heard, as the men in blue charged down towards the commotion, batons raised, they arrived in time to pick up the litter of confused men from pavement.

"Oh boy." Jimmy gasped. "What happened?" He said more to himself, remembering to breathe again.

Someone close by wearing a Keystone City Lightening's pin said cheerfully and with some pride. "That was the Flash. Guess he's a football fan too."

Jimmy grabbed the guy's arm. "Who?"

"You Metropolitians think you're the only city with a hero? That was ours, Keystone City's own – the Flash."

-'S'-

Diana knelt beside the surf, before her on the sand was the outsized sandals of Hermes. Night gave way to the dawn, and the sun rose across the water. Whereas the other gifts of the gods had been familiar to her, comprehensible, part of her training, her culture, indeed they had been made for her as an Amazon, the Champion of the Themyscira, in comparison although equally divine, Hermes' winged sandals were an otherworldly artefact.

Yet Diana was not without her own unique talents.

The wisdom of Athena and the speed of Hermes, to name but two. Intuitively she understood the ways of the gods, and the nature of their world.

"It is not what something is, so much as what it represents." Diana said out loud.

"Words have power."

"It is not what I say, so much as what I mean. What is the spirit behind what has been said.

"What purpose?"

Above her gulls cried out a stark answer, the birds soared above the beach, above the paradise Island that was home to the Amazons.

Diana closed her eyes. "Winged Sandals speak of flight."

Extending her arms wide she felt the wind through her fingers, the warm air rising from the sand the cool air driving from the sea.

Opening her eyes Diana found she was soaring above them all, flying with birds across the Islands.

Climbing and diving, dancing and soaring, Diana understood the power Hermes had given her was to step above and beyond the limits of Themyscira.

In time she alighted back onto the Island of Healing, elated and yet sombre, she knew the time had come for her to leave.

Excitement was tinged with sadness, and more so when she saw her mother had come to make sure the American truly did leave with the dawn; and to say her goodbyes.

As she settled to the ground beside the Queen, her mother's stunned expression said more than a thousand words. Her mother had seen her fly, seen her soar, seen Diana defy gravity.

"Hermes has granted me the power of flight." Diana stated.

"This much I see, although I hardly believe it." Hippolyta replied.

With the Queen had come her court, her advisers, and her General.

They too now looked upon their Champion with stunned faces of amazement and admiration.

"The boat is ready for your journey." Hippolyta told her daughter, her hand rested on Diana's arm, tears welled in her eyes.

The Princess shook her head. "Thank you, but no.

"I can carry Steve Trevor to the western continent far faster than any boat can sail." Diana explained.

"Majesty." The General spoke up after a stunned moment of quiet. "Then I should ask the crew to stand down?" Phillipus asked.

"Princess." Doctor Althea walked forward. "The Man is much stronger, your purple ray has worked a miracle, but I must ask - how can you imagine carrying him through the air?

"Exposing him to all manner of weather, of hot and cold, he is but a man, he needs the comfort of a bed, of warmth – of protection from the elements."

The assembled Amazon's murmured. Diana felt again her judgement was being questioned.

She stiffened, unconsciously mimicking the regal bearing of her mother, coupled with the authority of Phillipus.

"Althea, you are right of course; but the gift of Hermes is more than it appears.

"You saw me fly above the Island, and this part of this gift, but not all of it – because his gift is defined by his purpose – Hermes gifted me his ability to travel between worlds – yes to fly, but more than that to cross boundaries, all these things he does as the Herald of the gods, but he has another role - that of the guide of souls."

Steve Trevor looked on at the women as they talked in their peculiar tongue, the Princess seemed to hold there attention, she wore her colours, distinct from the flowing robes of the other women,

Then the matter appeared settled between them, and he marvelled as Diana approached him. He struggled to rise from the chair where he had placed, he could not be certain, but he suspected he was being taken home.

Diana placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Come Steve Trevor." She said in English, as she picked him up easily, as if he were a baby.

He protested, but there was metal in the blue of her eyes, steely determination.

"I am taking you home." She told him.

Diana carried the airman through the assembled Amazons who parted to allow their Princess to pass.

Then framed against the sea and sky, Steve Trevor's eyes saw something appearing from out the blue like a glass bird.

He stared questioning the evidence of his eyes, and as he focused Trevor realised this apparition was an aircraft. Indeed it was not unlike the prototype he flown and crashed into sea, yet it was subtly different, larger perhaps, certainly sleeker and more intimidating. He permitted himself to acknowledge that much – subtly different he thought, but only if I ignore the fact that it was until a moment ago entirely invisible, and even as he was taken inside the aircraft, the strange vehicle remained glass like in its translucency.

"Oracle!" Queen Hippolyta called out to Menalippe. "Explain this wonder."

The fair haired Amazon doyen of the mysterious nodded and spoke.

"It is as Diana said, this is the gift of Hermes, this invisible aeroplane is flight, just as the sandals were never merely sandals, neither is this aeroplane simply a aircraft, it is the gift given form – flight is the purpose.

"We perceive the gifts purpose expressed as something real, something that substantial in the substantial world, in previous centuries people imagined winged sandals might allow a person to fly, now we know an aircraft from Man's World achieves the same, so together we now see such a machine."

Hippolyta nodded understanding. "It is fitting Diana should enter Man's World in command of such an amazing device, having mastery of their skies."

"And just as the Ferryman has a boat to carry souls across the Styx to Hades, so Diana has a craft to ferry the American back to the western continent." Menalippe observed.

"And neither craft are simply what we observe them to be." Hippolyta acknowledged. Saying "For if they were simply what they appeared to be, then they would not be able to cross the expanse between worlds."

Struggling with the evidence of their eyes the assembled Amazon's realised they could no longer see the form of the aeroplane, and yet they could hear the roar of her powerful engines, and could feel the wind of it's passing, as Diana guided the invisible plane into the air, and away. Then silence returned to the Isle of Healing.

High above them, unseen Diana carried Steve Trevor away from Themyscira, westward, she observed the curtain of coloured light that marked the boundary between dimensions and with confidence born from faith in Hermes gift, Diana crossed the barrier between the hidden Amazonian Islands and into the harsher reality of Man's World.

Steve Trevor awoke. He could hear the distant comforting hum of engines, quietly almost too quietly propelling this incredible plane through the sky.

Framed by clouds through the translucent hull was the beauty of Diana. The Princess was leaning over him.

"Here drink this." She said.

"Who's flying the plane?" Steve asked as he sipped from the flask she had given him.

"I am." She replied.

Steve felt like saying, but you're not, this time he kept his own counsel, much to his relief, and reasoned that a plane that could fly itself was no more ridiculous than one which appeared out of thin air whilst being invisible.

"Where are we?" He did ask.

"According to my Lodestone we are approaching the coast of your country – a region called Florida. I believe that is where your home is?"

"I was based their, Steve replied.

"That is what you told me." Diana stated.

"Yes I mean that's where I took off from." He said.

"Then it is only fitting I should return you there."

Diana turned away, sitting down in the forward cockpit. "We will land shortly."

Steve wondered how long he had slept, he remembered flying though what seemed to a kaleidoscope of colour that had filled the sky, and then he realised he had fallen unconscious, the two events had to be connected, he still felt weak, but not tired so that he would fall asleep in mid flight.

The cool water was refreshing however, and he reluctantly relaxed and thought about how he was going to account for the loss of the Atalanta prototype and his return to his superiors.

On the ground at Naval Air Station Fort Lauderdale, Florida, the sound of the approaching aircraft was met with confusion and shouts of puzzlement, because as the technicians, and ground crew looked upwards seeking the unscheduled arrival they could see nothing at all.

The confusion was even greater by the time Diana strode into the base's Sanatorium carrying effortlessly in her arms the somewhat embarrassed lost airman.

The duty Doctor stood ago, stunned into silence.

Finally a nurse said with surprise. "Isn't that Captain Trevor?" Adding more personally. "Steve is that you?"

Her colleague spluttered. "But Trevor's dead."

"Guess again Doc." Steve coughed.

"He suffered serious injuries, but he is well on the way to making a full recovery." Diana declared.

She waited for a response, and when non was forthcoming Diana added.

"I shall leave him in your care."

She placed the Captain down on an empty bed, saying. "Farewell Steve.

"I must make my leave. My work here is done."

Steve took her hand. "So soon Beautiful?"

Diana looked at him bemused, but she smiled non the less.

"Washington will want to know of this." The Doctor declared. He recovered his sense and came over to Trevor, casting a long look over Diana, then visually checking over the airman. "You were reported as lost at sea weeks ago."

"Who is Washington?" Diana asked cautiously.

"Historically, or Geographically?" Steve chuckled. Waving the medic away, so he could concentrate on the Amazon, adding. "In this sense it's a place, the seat of my countries Government."

Diana nodded she understood. Steve tried to reach out to her once more, but across the wider base Diana's arrival had not gone unnoticed. A woman walking across an airfield carrying a man was unlike the plane they arrived in, very visible.

"What the Devil is going on here!"

Trevor winced as he sat up. Men burst in the room. Military Police, led in by a familiar face.

"Colonel Darnell." He said. "I've made it back." Steve waved, adopting a comical grin.

"Trevor?" Darnell spluttered. For a moment he too wore the mask of disbelief, before regaining something of his usual demeanour of command. "Where has that half naked woman gone?"

Steve immediately looked around in vain, Diana had used this moment of confusion to vanish – or so it seemed to him, he felt a strong sense of regret and longing.

"What kind of Woman was that?" The Colonel demanded.

"A Wonder Woman." Trevor sighed as he collapsed back into his hospital bed.


	47. Chapter 47

Westpahlia Germany. Architecturally striking the Castle Welwelsburg dominated the landscape, its unique triangular design had captivated Himmler, who in 1934 made this seat of the prince-bishops of Paderborn the headquarters of the SS.

Dark clouds gathered above the towering stone walls as the dark Mercedes staff car carried the Reichsfuehrer-SS Himmler to his self proclaimed 'centre of the world'; chosen because of confluence of mystically divined lines of energy, identified through the metaphysical art of Geomancy.

Sweeping through the Castles gates and into the inner court yard the SS leader is escorted into the Fortress.

Deep inside the substantial walls the bespectacled Nazi leans over the scale model of planned complex which was to engulf the surrounding village, and at it's heart the geometric triangular castle he has claimed as his own.

Lifting his gaze Himmler is alerted by the parting of his personal guard as they turn aside to allow an older and deeply jowled man to enter the room.

"Ah. Karl." Himmler snaps a greeting.

Karl Maria Wiligut salutes. His thin greying hair pulled back, thin moustache and dark brows, heavy nose. Willigut looks like an old raven.

" Reichsfuehrer." He greets the small man.

"Colonel – how goes the preparations." Himmler asks quietly.

"The land is ready, the energy readings are high, our subject is eager to serve." The Nazi occultist had long being called Himmler's Rasputin, the SS leader nodded allowing a thin smile to cross his lips. "Lead on my friend, I would like to meet our volunteer.

Willigut nods, and gestures for his leader to follow.

The two men walked together, closely shadowed by Himmler's SS bodyguard.

Himmler and Willigut, the guard, they all wear the distinctive silver death's head emblem on their hats, and are dressed in sharply tailored black uniform of the Schutzstaffel. This same deaths head motif is represented on the special rings each man wore, every one a personal gift from Himmler himself.

Given only to the elite of the SS, the ring itself had been designed by Willigut.

"How is your health old friend." Himmler asked as they walked.

Willigut replied with a nervous cough. Adding, "I am well for the moment."

Himmler nodded. "This conceit is best."

The older man laughed. "I am better among the dead."

Himmler agreed without any sign of amusement. "The strain of your work – dealing with such forces from the netherworld; the common man cannot hope to understand."

"Yes Reichsfuehrer." Willigut acknowledged that the wider world believed him dead, that this was a good thing. "You sir, more than any have appreciated the personal cost that wrestling with ancient powers to master the mysteries of the Irmin. To the uninitiated the awakening of consciousness would seem like madness."

Himmler accepted the compliment with a simple nod.

Shortly the two men entered a chamber deep within the fortress. Decorated with runes, and swastika, chalked patterns on the stone floor transcribed from millennia old inscriptions in the rocks of the Black Forest juxtaposed incongruously with modern devices. Cold metal boxes, bristling with switches, covered in dials and fed by heavy insulated cables.

A tall blond haired young man in his early twenties snapped to attention. He wore a leotard like a gymnast.

Himmler walked around the taller man like a cattle dealer looking over a prospective purchase.

Finally he looked him in the eye.

Wiligut gestured to the subject saying. "This is Wilhelm Bastian."

Himmler nodded. "An Aryan. Good. This means you expect success." He smiled. "No more volunteers from the workers barracks." He noted refering to the concentration camp that had been instituted specifically to assist with the works at the castle.

Approaching the blond youth Himmler stood tall, his head held back slightly, looking up he said. "Colonel Willigut tells me you have memories of previous lives?"

It would be an odd question outside these walls, but not here.

"Yes Sir!" Bastian snapped.

"Tell me."

Bastian shifted for the first time he appeared uncomfortable.

"I was a woman Sir." He answered hestiantly. "I think – nothing is very clear; it is confused."

"When?"

"A long time ago, in the time of cavemen."

"Truly?" Himmler demanded.

"He remembers being violated." Willigut stated. Bastian's jaw clenched.

"Then?" Himmler asked the blond man once more.

"Then I am male, a Priest in the time of the Pharoahs." Bastian replied with more certainty.

"And again in Babylon, a Priest, also again in Rome; then I was a Knight – a Templar." He continued becoming more confident.

Himmler smiled, the Knights Templar were a subject that greatly interested him.

"There were others, I am not certain of some things." Bastian admitted. Adding with fervour. "Today I am loyal soldier of the Reich."

"Excellent." Himmler stated. "You are ready to begin the process."

Bastian swallowed, terror flashed across his eyes. "Yes Sir!" He said.

The Reichsfuehrer recognised his apprehension, and approved of it, no sane man would enter into this tryst with the old powers without fear.

"Good man." Himmler turned to his colonel, and occultist Wiligut. "Karl how long must we wait?"

Wiligut consulted his watch. "We should prepare Captain Bastian directly. I estimate a little less than an hour remains until the confluence of earth energies begins."

"Very well, let this be done. Good luck Captain." Himmler turned and left the chamber.

-'S'-

Diana released the controls of her invisible plane, which unfolded behind her like paper, fluttering in the breeze, collapsing into itself beyond human sight. Diana swooped like the eagle of Hera, Athena and Zeus. Down from the sky into the city of lights below. She was intrigued by the lights, the cars, the sounds and smells of Washington.

Diana did not know what to expect from the capital of Steve Trevor's United States.

Alighting to the pavement she walked in the cool of the morning, taking in the sights. In time the empty streets began to fill as people began their day. Diana walked among them - this throng of people hurrying to their places of employment. Initially she was enchanted by the other worldly difference, Diana was like a tourist. The Amazonian Princess was initially bemused by startled reactions around her, but her preternaturally keen senses bombarded her with the truth. Lingering open mouthed stares, whispered words of surprise, some of lust, others of disgust. This reaction troubled her. Diana felt no shame about her appearance, and she did not understand why many of the Americans did.

Stopping before a Ladies outfitters, she stared at the shop's window display, where arranged mannequins were dressed in the latest fashions, she paused and reflected – contrasting her Amazonian garb with the oddly dressed men in their long pants, and the women in their dresses and skirts. So much more material than I am used too, she thought.

Inside Diana could see money was being exchanged. She understood the principle, coin for goods and services, although on Themyscira the Amazon's had no need for it. However here the implication was obvious, if she wished to blend in here in America she needed American clothes, and to get these she needed money. This Washington; Diana considered, was a strange an alien world.

Gunfire.

The rattle tat tat immediately caught Diana's attention. Spining around she tensed for action. The wind carried the sounds from further afield, now following on were screams of terror, cries of panic, and angry voices. Her instincts led to unhesitating action, and Wonder Woman leapt above the street below, leaving astonished faces behind her.

Outside the bank the gunmen let rip once more, the police were pinned down, people huddled behind what cover they could find as hot lead flew between them.

Diana alighted gently to the ground.

She turned to a startled woman beside her.

"Sister, what is happening here?"

The woman mouth opened, and hung there. The man with her looked up from under the brim of his hat. "They are robbing the bank lady. What's up with you, get down, there is shooting going on!"

"Robbery." Diana replied. Another alien concept.

Walking forward Diana observed the field of battle, she saw the path of each bullet, calculating trajectories, she stepped into the line of fire, faster than the human eye could make sense of she ricocheted fire into the ground, intercepting bullets from both sides.

Logically she deduced which was which.

"There is a dame." One of the bank robbers said.

"In the street, in a bathing suit." Another gasped.

"Gentlemen please put down your weapons. Return the money you have stolen." Diana began, indicating behind her to the uniformed men she said. "Surrender to the Officers of Justice who serve Washington, America." Her instructions were strong and clear above the hubbub.

"Don't know what you've been drinking doll face, but pretty gal or not, I'm going to have to plug ya' if you don't move your pretty ass out of here." One of crooks threatened.

Diana reached for the automobile that stood between them, and effortlessly moved the car aside.

Stunned by this incredible display of strength the armed robber let rip with his hand gun, yet the bullets were met with metal forged from the supernatural Aegis Shield in a blur of movement as Diana directed the deadly hot metal to ground.

"She's playing catch with em!" He blurted.

"I shall play catch with you!" Diana responded.

His colleagues were stunned, at first hesitant to shoot at an unarmed woman they raised there guns fear overcoming any prejudice.

Grabbing the man before her, Diana identified him as the leader, or least the most vocal of the bunch, her iron grip forced him to drop his weapon, and in a fluid motion, and good to her word, Wonder Woman threw the rugged faced man into the air spinning him around and directing him at his colleagues. The big man smashed into them felling them into a chaotic tumble.

Now she stood back as the dark blue uniformed policeman approached.

"Lady I don't know how you did that." One of the cops said, adding. "But thanks."

"Got to be Superman's sister?" His buddy wondered quietly.

Answering him by leaping into the air Wonder Woman left them, she could hear them calling out to her, ordering her to stay and answer questions, but Diana felt no obligation or inclination to given any other answer to men, than to take to the air.

-'S'-

Lois Lane lay asleep in her cabin aboard the Baronta, in her colleagues berth the bed appeared occupied, but appearances were deceptive, for across the water of the Atlantic sped the powerful Man of Tomorrow closing fast the flying man hurtled across the coast towards the rural idyll in the State of Maryland. On the liner midway across the Atlantic the bunk was occupied by creatively folded pillows and blankets, on the ground in America a young dog, still a puppy looked skyward and yipped.

Jonathan Kent looked over his glasses and folded his Newspaper.

"Krypto has gone again." He said to Martha as he rose to his feet, before crossing to the back door. Outside the night sky was brilliant with stars. Superman dropped to the ground before his dad, in his arms he held a wriggling twisting blur.

"He's glad to see you son." Jonathan observed.

"He sure is." Superman laughed, patting the excitable pup, whose movements only now slowed so that his dog shape was more or less recognisable once more. "I swear he met me at nearly mile and half vertical.

"I guess there is no question this little guy has my powers."

"Hmmph." Jonathan coughed. "He'll be flying next, mark my words."

Superman walked into the isolated farmhouse. Martha immediately began fussing, and he settled down to some home made cake.

Krypto sat loyally by his masters side.

"I appreciate you coming back here to exercise him." Jonathan said sipping coffee. "That is one bright dog. You never have to show him twice, well maybe three times anyway."

"I'm sorry my visits keep you so late." Superman said glancing at the wall clock.

"Don't be a silly." Martha scolded. "We are lucky you can drop by, you have two lives as it is."

"Can't leave this one alone too long." Superman stated, patting Krypto.

"The new table is lovely." Martha said self consciously. "I like it much better than... the other one."

"What was it your dad would say Jonathan?"

"Every pup has so much damage to do." The old farmer acknowledged. "Still it's been better since I gave him a chew toy."

Superman's sapphire eyes twinkled piercing the structure of the house to where the dog toy lay beneath the raised frame.

"You mean that heavy gauge steel 15" Monkey Wrench." he said, noting the teeth marks in the body of the metal.

Jonathan laughed. "Yeah. It was a godsend for that week or so when you were away."

Superman patted the oak kitchen table. "Good I can do without having to rebuild any more furniture."

"Really Clark." Martha said. "But you are so good at it."

Superman gave his mom a tired smile. "Maybe he said, but I'm kind of too busy to take up carpentry."

"How long before you are in Europe?" Jonathan asked more seriously."

"We dock in Southampton day after tomorrow."

A knowing look passed between his parents. Martha gave him that look mothers give.

"How is Lois?" She asked. "Lana mentioned running into her when she called last."

"Lois is... difficult."

His Pa chuckled, and began to work the tobacco in his pipe. "Does the White House know where you are going?" Jonathan asked.

Superman shook his head. "They don't know who Clark Kent is, and I'd rather keep it that way."

"Just be careful son. The President is rumoured to thinking about a third term, the last thing you want to be is an issue at the election."

Superman frowned at his adopted father.

"Just don't give those damn Nazi a reason for attacking the United States."

-'S'-

"Thank you Darling." The stunning woman took the wine glass from the officers outstretched hand.

"Colonel Darnell may I introduce Baroness Paula Von Gunther."

"Ah Colonel Darnell, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.."

"Indeed not young lady." Darnell countered, taking her proffered hand he kissed it. "I'm sure the pleasure is all mine."

Her dark eyes looked across black lined lids, rep painted lips pouted, and golden hair fell across her shoulders, the Baronesses voice purred with a German accent all to reminiscent of Garbo. "Colonel how kind of you to come to our little gathering."

He false modesty roused a wry smile from the seasoned soldier. Whose military green looked all so drab next the silvery excess of the Baronesses' resplendent cocktail gown.

"I could hardly refuse an invitation to fund raiser for veterans."

"From both sides of the Great war." She added.

Darnell looked out across the floor of Washington Hotel Ballroom where the Baroness was hosting her party. There were men in uniform, others older veterans wore their medals. Among them German Americans who had served the Kaiser as boys and had emigrated in the intervening years.

"It is regrettable that Europe is again at war." He said directly.

"A war Germany does not want." Baroness Paula replied. "But as much as I fondly remember the land of my birth, I find your America has charmed me."

The Colonel nodded politely, he knew from her file that Von Gunther had flown into New York aboard a Zeppelin in 1935, she had been in the US ever since.

Beside his beautiful host Darnell's people at military intelligence would check the backgrounds of all these veterans. Since Britain's declaration of War on Nazi Germany, while publicly pledging to keep America neutral, FDR had been in close contact with the Firebrand First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill.

America walked a fine line constrained by the isolationist legislation of the recent past and the rapidly changing world's descent into conflict.

Darnell smiled sweetly at the stunning example of Aryan perfection. Paula's file made it clear she was a person of interest to military intelligence.

"I hear you received back one of your own." She purred.

Darnell raised his brows, as he sipped from his own drink.

"Captain Steven Trevor."

"Has that made the papers in Washington?" Darnell replied blithely.

Paula smiled sweetly. She did not say either way, instead she leant into him, her face lifted up expectantly.

Darnell slipped into the agreed story. "Yeah. Trevor back home, got banged up – rough landing in the Caribbean, he was out of it for a long time, and you know how laid back those folks are, it took a while for him to come round, and so get in contact – and then get home."

"Really?" Paula said. Darnell could not tell whether she believed his lie. He face was a sweet portrait of innocence.

"I heard he was brought home by an Amazon."

"Steve Plane went down off Bemuda, no where near South America." Darnell laugh was kind of hollow.

"No." Paula insisted, for the first time Darnell felt an edge to her voice. Then sweetly she continued, laying her hand on his arm. "I meant Amazon in the poetic sense, a tall beautiful athletic woman."

Darnell felt his mouth twitch. Then quickly he recovered. "Well if you knew Steve, you'd know he can find em' pretty much anywhere he lands."

The Baroness laughed.

"I see, it was just something someone said."

"Who?"

"I forget. You know parties around town, so many faces, hard to keep track."

Darnell nodded folding his arms.

"I thought perhaps this was another those 'mystery men' well mystery woman in this case, you know the ones reporters have been writing about?"

Darnell did not commit an answer. She persisted. "There seems to have been an explosion of this..." She paused and smiled saying deliberately in her distinctive accent. "Phenomena - over the last couple of years."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read Baroness." Darnell said seriously.

"Of course." Paula replied, laughing again. "How the press exaggerates!" Staring with her dark eyes fixed on his.

Glancing at his wrist watch Darnell said. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to excuse myself, I have an appointment I must attend."

As Darnell left the Baroness he could almost feel her eyes following him, and it was with relief that he climbed into the army car. Barking at his driver, the big sedan took him across town to Constitution Avenue and the Munitions Building, home to the department of War since the previous year.

Hurriedly he strode to his appointment within the sprawling complex. With a sharp knock at the requisite door Darnell paused and then entered.

"Colonel take a seat." Leslie Groves indicated to the empty chair across from his. The small conference room was occupied by a third officer of their rank, who he recognised as Colonel Lane from Metropolis.

"Good to see you again Sam." Darnell shook his hand.

"And you Phil."

Once seated Groves efficiently moved to the task at hand.

"Tell me about this.. Wonder Woman character."

Darnell shrugged. "Everything I know. Everything Trevor told us is in that report. Frankly a lot of it sounds frankly crazy."

"We've seen a lot of crazy lately." Grove noted, looking across at Lane. "And not just from Metropolis." He leant forward passing a manilla file across to Darnell, with the red 'top secret' stamp on the cover.

Darnell opened the folder, picking through the photographs and notes he held up the stills of Superman, shots from the Fire Bird incident. There was another of Superman in what appeared to be armour.

"I had the President asking me about this 'Traffic Light Man' Grove growled, this hot on the heals, if you'll pardon the pun, of this Flash character, that has been charging around Keystone city.

"You mean the Green Lantern" Darnell suggested looking up from the file he was reading.

Grove nodded. "Yes I think you're right.

"Green Lantern, not Traffic Light." Grove scribbled across his notes, as he shot a questioning look in Darnell's direction.

Darnell read it's meaning. "Military Intelligence... I mean I have been concerned about the rise in these 'mystery men' - whether this was orchestrated in some way, and regardless of that, whether these individuals represented a threat to national security."

"Which is why we've invited you here today." Grove explained. "Our Organisation, "he tapped his papers to draw Darnells attention to the name printed on the top of each page – that read Alsos, "has a remit to research anything that falls outside the ordinary; and Captain Trevor's disappearance – reappearance clearly falls into this category."

"What can I do to help." Darnell responded.

Groves sat back in his chair, he toyed with his pen, as he talked. "Trevor is the only contact between this Wonder Woman, by that I mean particular this undiscovered culture, this island paradise – and America.

"We know that the Nazi's have allied themselves with a hidden civilisation with outposts around the world."

Darnell frowned.

"It's in the file." Groves stated.

Lane indicated that Darnell should leaf through to the final part of the report.

As he did so Groves continued. "On the basis of what Trevor observed we are keen to establish diplomatic relations with these Amazons."

Darnell scanned the file. His face became grave. He nodded grapsing the logic. "As a counter weight, to balance out the Nazi's alliance with this hidden group." He pointed to the disturbing rendering of the subterranean reptilians that illustrated Superman's encounter with the Annunki.

"Exactly." Grove stated. "And judging by Trevor's file he is more than well equipped to lead this charm offensive, even without the added advantage of making first contact with these women.

-'S'-

Himmler watched as Willigut worked the controls on the board before them. In the centre of the room Bastian the volunteer, their chosen test subject was strapped to a contraption that looked more like a medieval instrument of torture than a device of cutting edge science.

The young SS officer was stretched across what appeared to in all intents and purposes a wrack, only the heavy duty cables that wound serpent like from the metal shackles that held him in place splayed out like Leonardo's Vitruvian Man.

A nurse secured the final fixing, a mouth guard which would stop him biting his tongue. Quickly the area within the geometric drawings was evacuated, leaving only Bastian alone among the machines.

"My initial designs utilised the finest quartz crystals." Willigut informed his superior. Himmler nodded, watching the Colonel as he prepared for the experiment.

"My work was built upon that of the radio, with modification I was able to detect the distortions in the background magnetic field, and from there began divine the flow of mystical earth energy.

"It was not until you, Reichsführer, directed Ahnenerbe to give to me one of the green meteor crystal's for experimentation, that I found a way fine tune and amplify my early work."

Willigut directed Himmler to a cylinder from where a eerie green glow seeped through the small inspection window. "Now with this crystal modulating the frequencies, I can charge a capacitor with this channelled earth energy – the very spirit of the Greater Germany, and direct this into a vessel."

Himmler nodded. "I hope this subject proves to be more resilient than the others."

Willigut shrugged. "They were but stepping stones along the way.

"Bastian is unique in several respects."

"Indeed." Himmler nodded. "This is why I am here."

Willigut inspected the dials on the panel before him once more. His wrinkled hand then paused as it hovered over the control board. He looked at Himmler. "With your permission."

Himmler nodded.

"For the glory of the Third Reich." Willigut stated and he threw the switch.

Immediately Bastian began to spasm violently, as arcs of flickering energy sparked across his torso, his back arched as he fought with his restraints.

As he thrashed against his bonds a odd transformation began to take place. His skin took on a green hue. Willigut in turn dialled up the power, turning a large selector all the way to eleven, lightening like bolts crackled out around the room, breaking open the invisible barrier of Willigut's arcane circle, then the white fire engulfed Bastian in bright phosphorescent flash. Then everything went dark.

Himmler stopped shielding his eyes, shaking his head as he adjusted to the sudden darkness, confused cries rang out, and then the hum of a generator could be heard engaging and electric lights flickered back lighting the dungeon.

Bastian still strapped to the device shook and twitched, but slowly his convulsions stopped, his skin no longer glowed, but it remained green, and his grey leotard had been transformed, bizarrely now a vivid blood red.

It was then the green man's dark eyes snapped open, and without effort, he slipped out of his bonds.

Himmler stared wide eyed as the man who had been Bastian freed himself, the thick leather straps that had held him fast seemed to age instantly, falling away, benneath him metal rusted, and wood crumbled.

Black eyes stared out at the Reichsführer, as the man who had been Bastian roared in anger, clenching his fists before him, golden fire erupted from them, and then with a crackle and snap the figure was gone, only the strong smell of Ozone remained.

Himmler excited and wide eyed turned to Willigut, barking an order. "Get me a phone, I must place a call to the Fuhrer in Berlin immediately."

-'S'-

Lois shoved the Washington Post into Clark's hands. "Have you seen this?" She demanded. "Look at page five."

Clark set his tea to one side, and unfolded the two day old Newspaper. Around him the hotel dinning room was busy with breakfasting guests.

The Cumberland Hotel, London, had provided them with American Newspapers, copies having arrived by air mail ahead of the two reporters.

Scanning the papers contents Clark quickly read the surprising account of a woman in what was described as an ornate bathing suit foiling a bank robbery.

"She appears to have powers beyond that of mortal men." Clark stated.

"A tag line I thought I'd only ever see applied to the Metropolis Marvel." Lois bit into her toast.

"This orange jelly is bitter tasting." She said screwing up her nose.

"It's Marmalade." Clark said, returning the newspaper to the table. The headlines from were dominated by reports of the fall of Denmark and the ongoing battle for Norway. "It's the way the British like it."

"They can keep it."

"I quite like it."

"Is there any thing you don't like to eat?"

"I can pretty much eat anything." Clark replied with a wry smile.

"Mr Kent?" The Englishman spoke with a cockney lilt, a young man he passed Clark a telegram.

"It's from Phelps." Clark explained.

"Taylor's buddy?" Lois sought confirmation, reaching out for the message. Clark nodded, and soon the pair were being driven the short distance from Marble Arch, through St James Park and along by the river to Fleet Street.

"Only in England." Lois stated, as they made their way into the Olde Cock Tarvern, old it clearly was, and it's air thick with smoke, and full of reporters.

Clark swiftly identified Phelps seated at table, and the British Newspaper man introduced himself, shaking Kent's hand firmly, he gestured to the bar. "In England if you want a pint, you'll have to go there and order one yourself." Adding with a smile. "There isn't table service my good chap."

"This is Lois Lane." Kent introduced her, and Phelps was immediately charming, offering to buy the female reporter a drink, extending the offer to Clark as well. Kent recognised his first remark had been a friendly jibe to make sure the American understood the way things worked here in London.

Conversation soon turned to business however, as Clark sampled the cool, not cold beer. Phelps said. "I've cleared you passage on a boat heading out to Norway." He told Clark.

"What about me? Am I chopped liver?" Lois asked.

Phelps winced. "I am terribly sorry Miss Lane, but errm there is no way err the chaps will countenance a women.

"One yank is more than enough, is what they said."

Lois said nothing, her glare said enough.

"I'm sure you did your best." Clark replied.

"Sorry." Phelps said again, directing hound dog eyes in the direction of Lane.

"Err maybe it's for the best Lois." Clark said, risking his friend ire. He quickly went on. "Besides you get to stay in London, and I should think there plenty enough here to write home about."

Lois stared at him coolly. "I'm sure I'll find something to do."

-'S'-

Diana wrestled confused with the foreign otherworldliness of this land, man's world. If she were not honour bound to be an ambassador of peace she would have turned away from this America and flown herself back through the veil to Themyscira; but she was beholden to complete her mission.

Gracefully she soared over Washington, and as the sun set, she took solace in the monumental buildings that reminded her of the Grecian architecture of her homeland, one in particular had the pattern of Temple of Athena on Themyscira. Yet it was not the goddess that Diana found within, but a great statue of a man.

As she looked upon this seated giant Diana was aware of another woman's presence.

"Diana?" The voice called out. Turning she stepped out of the long shadows and smiling she greeted the American, wondering how it was this stranger knew her name.

"Good evening Sister. Is this a place of worship for your people?"

The voluptuous young woman appeared more than surprised, gasping she took a step back.

Blinking she recovered, and answered. "You could say that. Although I wouldn't." She spoke with a Texan drawl.

"Worship isn't what I'd say, some folk would take exception to using that outside of Church, so I'd go with honour, sure honouring Lincoln is what this memorial is all about."

"I'm sorry if my choice of words offended you. I'm Diana, I am visiting man's world for the first time."

The woman chuckled, her full face lit up with a smile and her heavily curled strawberry blonde hair bobbed about as she laughed.

"Woo woo! Sister, you got that right, this is a man's world and you can go double for Washington for sure." She smiled broadly once more and extended her hand. "Etta, Etta Candy."

"I am Diana, Princess of the Amazons – but you called out my name, so I thought you knew that?"

Etta confirmed her suspicions. "I was coming here to meet my friend – Diana, another Diana. I've been here for ages, and she hasn't turned up – I took a walk around the monument and then I met you. That is a coincidence I guess."

"I don't believe in coincidence." Diana replied. "The gods themselves must have meant us to meet."

"Wait." Etta said. "You're a Princess, I mean for real – you're not joking are you?"

Diana nodded. "I am from the Island of Themyscira."

Etta swallowed. She seemed upset about her friend. Diana looked at the buxom woman across from her, and she recognised the elements of the clothes she was wearing, a style familiar to her, it reminded her of the uniforms she had seen back in Florida at the air base. Etta wore military green, with a beige trench coat draped over one arm.

"Do you know Captain Steve Trevor?"

"Can't say I do." Etta replied. Asking almost immediately. "Is he your sweetheart?"

Diana looked back blankly.

Then Etta asked. "Aren't you cold honey?"

"Not at all." Diana replied honestly.

"It's just that – well you look like you're dressed for the beach, and there isn't a beach here."

"I see now that I am inappropriately dressed." Diana admitted. "This would not be true at home."

Etta's face hardened. "Sister you should be able to wear what you want; you're not wrong, it's crazy when you stop and think about all the rules that exist about what you can and can't wear to this and that."

"This world is complicated." Diana acknowledged. "Are you a soldier?"

"Me?" Etta laughed. "I'm a girl honey! Silly, no I'm in the voluntary corps. Actually it's a long story, but short of it is I'm a student at George Washington University."

"Yes I believe Washington is a man as well as place." Diana observed without irony. She also remembered women were not soldiers in America.

"Just where are you from?" Etta asked. "Where is it you called your home?"

"That too is a long story." Diana laughed. Adding. "Can you help me find more suitable clothes, I thought to try earlier... but I seem to lack the right means of exchange, that is money I mean."

"Heck – don't we all." Etta laughed not quite understanding Diana's predicament. Then she said more to herself. "Why not."

Etta came across to Diana and reaching up she said. "Here you go!" As she draped Diana in her long trench coat. "I'll introduce you to the girls, and we can swap our long stories."

-'S'-

Hitler sat at his desk in the great office of the New Reich Chancellery in Berlin. His hands rested on the polished surface in his hands he grasped the shaft of the Hofburg Spear, the Vienna Lance, the Longinus – the Spear of Destiney. The Fuhrer waited.

Himmler had told him of the success at Wewelsburg. How the project had reached it's conclusion.

Hitler had waited the allotted time, giving the new god time to adjust to his nature; but he could wait no longer.

His hands rested on the Spear, and with his mind he willed the new god to hear his call.

As the seconds ticked by, so the anger and impatience of the Fuhrer grew; then as he growled a curse, a sudden burst of bright light appeared and the silence of vast room was shattered by a crackling roar like thunder.

Before Hitler the creature appeared. The entity roared.

"You are as glorious as Himmler promised." The Fuhrer exclaimed.

In the darkness the tall figure's green skin glowed like a radium dial, the livid hue contrasting vividly against his red leotard.

"Wotan!" Hitler called out. "I name thee Wotan." He stood to his feet, his voice now carried all the invective of his great public speeches, full of command and confidence.

Holding the Spear of Destiny high above his head the Fuhrer roared.

"Prince of Greater Germany I bind you by the power of this Spear. As I rule the Germans, their lives and this land. I also rule your Spirit.

"Answer me Wotan!"

The man who had been Wilhelm Bastian growled. "I am Wotan!"

"Whom do you serve."

"I serve you Fuhrer." Wotan declared. Energy crackled around him.

Hitler laughed, lowering the Spear he let the shaft rest on the polished floor beside him.

Wotan knelt before the Nazi dictator. "What is your will."

Hitler suddenly lifted the spear once more, swinging around until its point rested inches from Wotan's dark eyes. "You see, it's been our misfortune to have the wrong religion. Why didn't we have the religion of the Japanese, who regard sacrifice for the Fatherland as the highest good? Even the Mohammedan religion too would have been much more compatible to us. Why Wotan did it have to be this Christianity with its meekness and flabbiness?"

It was a rhetorical question. Wotan's dark eyes flashed non the less.

"Now we will have a new religion, one which will fight to safeguard the existence and the reproduction of our race. So that our people may mature for the fulfilment of the mission!

"You Wotan will become the symbol around which the unity of blood and soil will be restored, you will be the tool in my hand, the weapon against all who would stand against us."

Wotan rose to his feet. "I stand for you – I stand against all who would oppose you."


	48. Chapter 48

Clark Kent, reporter for a famous metropolitan newspaper relaxed into the obscurity of the crowded railway station, as his eyes flickered, a superhuman mind began sorting through the patchwork of humanity. Men in Uniform, civilians, women and children. Kent quickly committed to paper an article for the Star.

'Plucky Brits, brave in the face of war with Nazi tyranny'.

As he worked Kent reflected that Lois was probably still seething. He did not know how long Taylor would keep her in London. He suspected Lois would do her damnedest to stay in search of a story.

Utilising his array of superhuman senses Clark used this self-same moment to find a worthy recipient for his train ticket.

Article now complete, Kent surprised a working man, pressing into his hand his ticket to the North, with such stealth and speed it appeared as magic.

Phelps had arranged passage for the Star's reporter north to the port of Newcastle upon Tyne, from there he would cross the water to the war zone.

Superman had other plans.

Moments later the Man of Tomorrow hurtled unseen from the shadows flying north east, leaving the English coast bound for the fjords of Norway.

Tearing across the turbulent North Sea, Superman flew directly to the conflict zone where the German and British Navy's were engaged; on his mind was the current neutrality of his adopted country, and aware that his loyalty to the President would now limit his choices.

Superman's flight took him to the Norwegian coast in the week Lois Lane and Clark Kent had been at sea, Denmark had fallen, and Norway was hard pressed by invading German troops. Paratroopers had landed at the Oslo's Fornebu Airport, and two others, quickly followed by Vidkun Quisling's radio enabled coup-de-tat. Key towns were under occupation, and inevitably some followed Quisling becoming collaborators; betraying their country by laying down arms and accepting the invasion. However the Norwegian King Haakon VII had with the support of his Ministers counter broadcast a defiant rebuttal of Hitler's brutal ultimatum. Escaping the invaders the Norwegian Government had fled North. Superman crossed the occupied land towards Namsos, which lay on the coast almost half way across Norwegian territory, it was here two British cruisers and flotilla of destroyers had landed Royal Marine forces. It seemed to Metropolis Marvel the most sensible place to begin.

-'S'-

Diana, Princess of Themyscira, adjusted the strange garments the women of America chose to wear. She paused mentally noting that she was not sure it was _their_ choice. Men's World was very different, and women had a lesser role in it, and yet there were things she knew and recognised.

Sisterhood, a sorority of friends Etta Candy had called it.

Diana had not regretted for one moment putting her trust in the plump Texan, she had taken to her and although it had not been easy, Diana in the first few hours together had won her trust.

Diana had come to America to aid America. She had convinced Etta of this. Besides Etta had recognised her as the Wonder Woman the Newspapers had reported stopping the bank robbery earlier, which had gone a long way to proving Diana fought on the right side.

Inevitably the papers speculated widely, but of course Diana was not Superman's sister, or any relation. She had no idea who this Superman was, and to be honest she was not sure she believed he was real. And she told the incredulous Etta as much.

"If he were Herakles, I might believe it." Diana had laughed.

Equally Diana was not a natural citizen of America, and Etta had fretted at length over her lack of 'papers'. This so worried her new friend so much that Diana had become troubled herself.

In the end it was Etta that suggested a solution, and so it was by the hand of the fates Diana Princess of Themyscira had fallen into the identity of Etta's lost friend Diana Prince. The same Diana Etta had expected to meet at Lincoln's Memorial. Again the coincidence went deeper, Prince who was of Greek extraction, had even looked a good deal like Diana, enough for the Amazon to dress down her hair and with the glasses Prince needed to wear for work, to pass muster.

Prince had been in Europe , visiting Greece and extended family until recently, or at least she should have returned to America to join Etta in Washington, her last letter had confirmed this much.

Diana Princess of Themyscira had promised to discover what had happened to Diana Prince – Etta's friend, and to do this she had at Etta's suggestion co-opted not only Prince's name, but her place in the Corps – until as Etta put it, "a better option came along."

Diana decided to take this opportunity to learn about Men's World at the same time, living as a normal American woman. Reading about American history and culture, especially the role of women. Diana appreciated how far women had come in a generation, gaining emancipation but not equality of opportunity. She read of women who had were heroines and pioneers in science, industry and endeavour, and in doing so learned about Diana Rockwell Trevor. The woman who had disappeared flying over the Mediterranean, but who had in reality died on Themysicra defending the island, the heroine who she had been named after - Steve Trevor's mother. The Fates play a game with me, Diana decided.

Etta also had an ulterior motive in helping her, one which became obvious. Candy was convinced something untoward had happened to Diana Prince, piecing fragments, hints, and odd names in her friends letters had led Etta to the conclusion that Diana had made the wrong kind of European Friends.

For Diana of Themyscira, the politics of Men's World simply appeared seedy, overly complicated, and of course patriarchal. However she understood sisterhood and friendship, and if something untoward had happened to the real Diana Prince, then in recognition of Etta's kindness she intended to find out what that was.

Her role in the Voluntary Corps ensured she was placed in the secretarial pool. Initially she was baffled by the mechanical typewriter, but her keen mind soon mastered the tool, and her command of English was of course accurate, if lacking the subtly of cultural knowledge, something that mattered less when the form and style was as dictated.

Her test paper went from chaos to faultless in one sitting. In moments Wonder Woman was proficient with keys. Diana apologised. "I am sorry, I was not practised."

"Hey gal, it's okay, I see you were rusty, but you got it together at the end." The brunette sergeant laughed, her long hair tightly arranged on her head. She added. "Although initially I can't make sense of it. It might as well be Greek to me."

"It is, at least eventually." Diana replied.

The woman looked at her oddly. Then laughing. "Cute, you've just come back from there, isn't that right? - I saw that in your file."

"Yes." Diana answered almost honestly.

"Well you'll be assigned to the pool, and from there to an individual officer if needed, that might be temporary or longer, it just depends."

Diana signed some papers which the Sergeant explained promised her to absolute secrecy, on penalty of imprisonment, and from that time Diana Prince was available for work, in the sprawling offices of the Department of War, on the National Mall.

Of course the Fates dictated that Captain Steve Trevor should be assigned a secretary from the pool on his return to duty at his Washington office, and that secretary was Diana Prince.

-'S'-

Lieutenant General Sir Adrian Carton De Wiart, had the look of Pirate about him, the black eye patch achieved that. He looked across his desk at the bespectacled American. His one good hand held the Reporters documents, and his one good eye glanced at the details.

"Kent." He said curtly. "What the devil are you doing here in the middle of my bloody war?" The old officer snapped, casting the passport and travel documents along with a letter of introduction from Taylor's buddy Phelps.

Clark smiled weakly and took back his papers.

"I'm just here as a Reporter." He replied tucking them back into his crumpled blue jacket, adding "America needs to know what the Third Reich is doing."

Almost on cue the room shook as the town of Lillesjona where De Wiart's forces had holed up after landing in the Namsos region, was hit by German bombers. As the Luftwaffe screamed overhead spilling their lethal cargo, the resulting explosions shook the buildings around them, and plaster dust fell like rain from ceiling. Kent noted the Lieutenant General was unmoved by onslaught.

Clark's incredible senses detected large quantities of shrapnel buried in old wounds, behind the scar tissue, and beside the evident loss of his left eye, and left hand, there had been a second injury to the head, another bullet had struck his ankle; and the old soldier had also been shot through the hip.

"Hmm," De Wiart coughed. "America was very late to the last war, and so far you're late again to this one."

"Isolationism is a principle many Americans hold in high esteem Sir," Kent replied.

"And what do you make of it?"

"The editorial line of the Metropolis Star has always been interventionist."

"I noted that your travel papers are only dated from the day before yesterday, may I say you've made exceptionally good time from England young man." The Lieutenant General pressed.

Clark nodded without missing a beat, replied, "I received them en route as it were", and then adding quickly, "How goes the land war?"

"Officially we're the first British Forces to bravely engage the enemy. Frankly things are as clear a mud here; and as you can hear the Hun are busy trying to pound the hell out of us, and the French are sitting tight because half of their equipment is missing.

"All in all it's pretty much what you can expect in war." The old soldier replied, then counter questioning Kent again.

"What of the Norwegian forces to the South, of Oslo, and so on?"

Clark shook his head, as he was able to reveal surreptitiously what he had observed as the Man of Tomorrow had crossed the Norwegian territory; the German's were moving swiftly to secure the southern towns.

De Wiart appeared starved for information, and listened to Kent's account with serious intent. Finally when Clark had recounted what he dare, the British Officer seemed to have reached a conclusion about him.

"What are your plans?" He asked the reporter.

"To push northwards," Kent replied honestly. "Narvic, I believe there is serious fighting in that region."

The old soldier didn't comment either way. "You set yourself admirable challenges. With snow on the ground and lie of the land, it won't be easy."

"It's my job." Kent replied seriously.

De Wiart shook his head. "I can't help you, nor will I prevent you doing what you feel you must." He offered Clark his hand and Kent took it.

"Good luck Sir." The reporter said as he left the dusty office.

"We'll need it." De Wiat agreed.

-'S'-

In the crypt of Castle Wewelsburg sitting on a gilded throne as if asleep the dark god Wotan stirred, as if disturbed by troubled dreams.

The Nazi Champion could sense something, a presence, far off, in the disputed lands to the North.

The wizard concentrated as he searched for meaning. His senses were keenest where his Fuhrer's troops held sway, the battlefield was an uncertain place, and his preternatural vision did not extend with certainty beyond the territories held by Nazi Germany.

Wotan's face still resembled the young SS officer, but Bastian's mind was now but one of many personalities, each with their own lifetimes worth of memories, each one vying, thrashing semi-conscious in the darkness to wrench some semblance of control back, grabbing for life, yet every one of them, Bastian included was held back, dammed by the will of the new olden god.

Something else interrupts his thoughts, an unmistakable call.

Wotan rises to his feet. Energy crackles around the circular crypt as before him the room spins, becoming a vortex of colour and shadow. The olden god newly made extended a green skinned hand into the crackling portal, time and space snapped shut around the magical being, before in the blink of eye opening once more as the Dark Lord stepped into the cavernous study of the Fuhrer.

Hitler waits, seated behind his desk, in his hands the Spear of Destiny, which he places onto the polished surface between himself and the mysterious mage.

Wotan stood stiffly, as to attention, his head dipped in slow acquiescence. "Mien Fuhrer." He acknowledges.

The shorter man, brushed his finger across the signature moustache he wore, as he stood to greet the statuesque creature.

Wotan now wore a uniform. A black cloak fell from his shoulders, lined with blood red, it hung from the uniform of an SS officer, rendered uniquely in the same dark red, the silver lightening slash stylised SS symbol on the up turned and prominent collar. The uniform deviated from standard in other ways. A broader black belt at the waist and rather than one single band, two counter diagonal belts crossed Wotan's chest. A sword hung from the belt, down past tight fitting jodhpurs style leggings. Characteristic black boots completed the ensemble.

Hitler picked up a brown folder from the desk, and referring to it he spoke. "From this account of your powers I note that your strength is greatest in the heart of the nation."

"Yes." The green skinned man nodded. "The Fatherland, the Volk, imparts to me the energies of the people."

Hitler curled the report in his hands into a baton. "And by logical extension the further you travel from the heartlands, the weaker you become?"

"That is true to an extent."

"How so?"

"As German territory expands so does the energies on which I am able to draw, the greater the reach and influence of the German people, the greater the extent of my powers."

The Fuhrer pressed his point. "So where German power reaches, so does yours?"

"Indeed."

"So the reach of Luftwaffe extends to England, your hand reaches England?"

"Yes. My powers will not be at their extant, nor will I be able to operate indefinitely."

"How long?"

Wotan frowned. "Effectively this would be measured in a matter of hours, exactly how long would depend on the nature of my activities."

"Excellent." Hitler smiled. Tapping the report against his leg he was distant in thought. Wotan stood silently waiting for the smaller man to speak.

Finally the Fuhrer turned to the supernatural being. "I believe a test of your powers is required. I wish to know the extent of your abilities."

Wotan nodded. "Such a test is welcome. I am curious to explore my own limits."

Hitler shook his head. "There must be caution; we cannot press to far... too fast. You represent too valuable asset to squander."

"My hand can reach the enemy; the waters of the North Sea do not present a barrier to me.

"Just as the Luftwaffe can effectively strike at England. So can I."

Hitler smiled. "Perhaps an expedition can be mounted." He turned to his desk and drew to himself a further report. Handing this to Wotan, he said. "I did not wish to engage the British Empire. I would make peace, if a truce can be made, and there is yet a strong chance they will seek peace.

"Agents within the British Establishment report that many high ranking persons remain sympathetic to Germany, and consider this not only an unnecessary war, but an unnatural one.

"There remains a problem however; there is a loud voice, one which has barked for too long." Hitler sneered. "I speak of that warmonger Churchill."

"The First Lord of the Admiralty."

"Indeed, his fingerprints are all over the battle for Norway. Notwithstanding our success on land, the Kriegsmarine has been hit hard by the Royal Navy, the British are winning the war at sea."

Wotan looked at the papers in the folder. He understood Hitler's purpose. "I shall kill Churchill." He said casting the file aside. "When he is at his most vulnerable."

-'S'-

"Miss Lane." Phelps began, his English clipped with the inclination in tone that was associated with the upper classes. "I do hope I am not a persona non grata?"

Phelps lent on the bar of the Cumberland Hotel's lounge, he had fashionably roguish moustache that reminded Lois of the English actor David Niven.

"Pardon?" She replied. "Did you say something Mr Phelps?"

"Come on old thing, don't be like that."

Lois glared back coldly. Phelps reconsidered.

"Look I'm dreadfully sorry if I've caused any offence." He stated more formally, indicating to the barman. "Let me buy you a drink, and I can begin trying to make amends."

Lois turned to him. "Look buddy, I'm a big girl, I've been in the reporting game long enough to know how things work. You gave Clark the story because he was a guy, and now you're hitting on me because I'm not."

"Now don't be.. how do you say, sore at me?" Phelps continued. "Scotch isn't it." Adding something unintelligible to Lois to the Barman, Phelps returned his charm to her.

"Miss Lane, I appreciate you're an emancipated American lady, and I regret that we've apparently got off on the wrong foot, but when I said I wished to make amends I assure I was being sincere – and above board."

Lane took the drink.

"Here a drop of water releases the oils." Phelps noted, adding literally a drop from a jug on the bar. "From the wood the whiskey was aged in." He added.

"To the point." Phelps continued hurriedly. "I am well aware you are a respected journalist in your own right Miss Lane, and while I admit I wasn't willing to send you into harm's way, I am able to help you none the less."

"How?" Lois demanded.

"I am not without connections among the who's who, and there is this weekend something of gathering, up North, a bit of hunting, some dancing in the evening..."

"Mr Phelps this sounds more like a date than it does a news story."

"Indeed that would be so, if it were not for the guest list my dear." Phelps countered, sipping from his own drink. "There will the usual collection of Lords and Ladies one would expect at the Duchess of Northumberland's get together.

"And some cabinet ministers." Phelps added. "That is if you're interested."

Lois looked directly at him, and smiled. "Okay, now you're making progress."

-'S'-

It was with some amusement that Diana watched Steve Trevor work, principally because he had been assigned to discovering as much as he could about Wonder Woman.

This was proving to be an object lesson in how invisible a woman could be in Men's World. Etta had, with Diana's, consent created a dowdy look, behind her flat hair and large dark framed glasses, the slightly too large service uniform, in its uninspiring dark colours Diana was herself, tellingly Trevor although he was looking for her could not see it. This seemed so ridiculous that the Amazon wondered if this were some strange legacy of the Proteus mask.

This magical gift from Hermes had been shattered in combat during the Tournament on Themyscira, revealing her true face, and yet Diana was familiar enough with magic to know that things are not always what they appear.

She had done her best to explain this to Etta. Her friend had been very alarmed when Diana had told her about her assignment, and surprised Diana found the twist of fate amusing.

"What!" Etta had spluttered. "You've been assigned to an Officer who actually knows Diana of Themyscira. The guy whose life you saved?"

Seeing her worried expression, Diana felt obliged to explain, and as she outlined how she had concealed her identity during the Amazonian Tournament and how she had been found out. Diana then noted. "Perhaps I subconsciously welcomed that revelation."

"You mean you wanted to be recognised?"

"Yes, if I am honest I did."

Etta was unsurprisingly enchanted by the very idea of Themyscira, the Paradise Island. "Of course who wouldn't, you deserved to be recognised for sure. You won."

Diana nodded, a little embarrassed. "Perhaps now because I don't want to be recognised, especially by this arrogant man..."

"Albeit handsome one," Etta had interrupted. Diana found she had to nod in agreement, much to her surprise, but she quickly moved on saying.

"Perhaps the lingering effect of the Proteus mask is at work, and this is why Captain Trevor does not see through my disguise." Diana speculated.

Etta could offer no insight; this talk of magic was beyond her experience. "I'm just real glad he doesn't." She said.

Diana explained further. "Wielding magical items is not as simple as picking them up, using them and putting them down again." She said.

"How so?" Etta asked.

"Well once a magical item is used it invariably leaves some kind legacy."

"Like a fingerprint?"

"Not quite, but yes a mark on a person – that much is true." Diana acknowledged. "In fact the more I consider this the more certain I feel this must be it.

"That the Proteus mask, when it was broken, that some of its magic passed to me."

"Well I'm glad that it did, otherwise our game would be up." Etta observed seriously. Diana nodded; thinking would have to explore this further in the coming days. "But for now we must concentrate on the mystery of what happened to your Diana Prince?"

"Oh Diana" Etta sighed. "I really don't know what could have become of her.

"But I have been thinking, why not begin where my Diana should have?"

Diana looked questioningly at Etta, the larger woman explained.

"I mean begin where she would have entered the country, the Port of New York."

"And?" Diana asked.

"Ask around, someone must have seen her, I mean there must be records of her disembarking the boat. Provided she got that far. Perhaps someone will remember something, give us a lead to work on?"

Diana agreed, so it was decided.

Together that weekend the two women took the train to the big Apple, where again at Etta's suggestion they began by Diana attempting to locate some 'lost' luggage at the relevant office.

"You say your name was?"

"Prince, Diana Prince." Diana confirmed.

The Clerk checked his records. "I have you arriving on the dates you mention, but I don't see anything about any suitcase being lost."

Diana smiled. That at least confirmed her namesake had arrived safely in America, so the question now became what had happened following her coming ashore?

"That's peculiar, because Diana definitely reported it." Etta suggested. "It's terribly important." She said, pushing some Dollar bills to the Clerk, whilst saying. "Perhaps you can ask around?" She included a slip of paper with numbers on it. "We'll be staying here overnight, if you hear anything, and here at this number come Monday." Etta said pointing to her note, adding "Of course there is a reward, Fifty Dollars."

The Clerk took the cash without any acknowledgement, but noting the telephone numbers, he said. "Sure I will call, if I hear anything – but it'll probably be next week now, it'll be Monday before I see most of the guys again." He explained, adding. "Must be something important to you, in your lost case?"

The round faced woman smiled broadly "Just some sentimental family stuff, pictures of the old country, nothing of value." Etta replied, saying. "Isn't that right Diana?"

"That's Diana Prince." Diana said again. "Prince" She said with a certain tone to her voice, the tone of one accustomed to unswerving obedience.

The Clerk looked startled, suddenly he was not wondering what valuables might be lost, and quickly he added. "Of course I got. Diana Prince. I'll ask around.

"Be sure you do." Diana smiled sweetly, and left the startled Clerk alone wondering where the lion from within the mouse of that girl had suddenly appeared from.

-'S'-

Lois discovered in the course of the weekend's events that Phelps was in fact a Viscount, a title he chose to use only when it suited him, it appeared, and he ably moved her from person to person, making the necessary introductions.

At first Lane was disappointed not to see the noted personalities she had expected, but Phelps assured her they were busy men, and would not arrive until the evening.

The one thing that did not disappoint was the venue, the Duchy of Northumberland's seat was Alnwick Castle, which in every way everything a wide eyed American girl could have imagined a thousand year old English Castle to be.

For the time being Lois satisfied herself observing the British Aristocracy at play, the colour and the sounds of the traditional hunt, as the fox was chased by the hounds, accompanied by the riders, the huntsmen resplendent in their red coats, as they charged across the countryside. Only the absence of men her own age served to remind her that there was a war being fought.

The Duchess of Northumberland's sons were themselves in uniform, and following her introduction Lois learned Lady Helen was also Queen Elizabeth's Mistress of the Robes, an ancient title that in practise meant she had a managerial role in the Royal Household. Excitedly Lois wondered if the King himself might arrive. As it happened a perhaps more important meeting took place.

After Dinner Lois strayed from the Drawing Room where the Ladies had retired too, curious she flouted convention and wandered, in due course finding the library.

The smell of cigar smoke caught her attention and she walked over to the imposing fireplace, their, beside the flames sat a portly gentleman, across from him a taller man stood as she approached, Lois instinctively thought he looked like a cop.

Beside them supper plates lay on a tray finished.

"Ah dear me, I see a Lady has entered the room. I fear Walter I shall have to extinguish my cigar." The distinctive accent was instantly recognisable. As was his profile.

"Please Mr Churchill, don't trouble yourself on my account, besides I like the smell of a good cigar." Lois replied.

Winston Churchill had risen slowly from his chair.

"An American, how delightful" he said, looking her up and down, the reporters blue gown was heavily beaded and reflected the fire light. "I fear you have me at a disadvantage my dear." Churchill noted.

Lois unabashed extended her hand. "Lois Lane." She replied "Pleased to meet you Sir."

"Charmed I'm sure." The First Lord of the Admiralty replied, saying. "I must apologise" as he relaxed back into his seat. "I was late in arriving, too late to interrupt Lady Helen's formal dinner at least." He took a drink of whiskey.

"Is that scotch?" Lois asked.

Churchill chuckled. "Would you like to join me in a glass?" He asked.

"Yes please Sir that would be delightful." Lois answered.

The elder statesmen poured a generous measure from the decanter on the side table into a tumbler, adding water he passed it to Lane.

"Please take a seat." He gestured to where his companion Walter had been sitting.

"If you're sure... Mr... ?" Lois asked the other man.

Walter smiled. "It's Walter Thompson, Miss and it's my pleasure." He then stepped into the background.

Lois decided he was almost certainly the Cabinet Ministers Bodyguard.

"So Miss Lane, what is an American doing in England?" Churchill asked.

Lois took a mouthful of the liquor from her glass, and went for it. "I am a reporter Sir.

"And that's what I'm here in England to do. Report on the progress of the War with Germany."

Churchill took a puff of his cigar; Lois liked to think she could see a twinkle in his eye.

"My mother was an American." He replied, as if Lois decided - to say I understand you.

"You are quite a beauty Miss Lane. Which paper has you in their employ?"

"The Metropolis Star."

"Ah yes. I have read some of your Editors leading articles."

"And you approve?" Lois asked directly.

"Of course" Churchill replied. "America has a great role to play in History, if her people would see it. Anyone who can help shed light on the reality of this war; for we fight a monstrous tyranny, unsurpassed in all the dark lamentable history of men. Write, Miss Lane! Write clearly and boldly, so that the free peoples of this world can see the future of Christian Civilisation depends on the outcome of this fight."

Lois smiled and reached into her purse, and withdrew a small notebook with pencil. "May I quote you on that?" She asked with her warmest smile.

-'S'-

Superman flew over the fjords that characterised the coastline of Norway, here in the deep water channels around Narvik a brutal sea battle had been waged, and he did not need superhuman senses to see the evidence of this. The scuttled wreck of the Bernd von Arnim lay broken steel a jagged knife rising from the cold waters in Rombaksfjord, the steep near vertical mountainous land rising around the scene. Superman could of course see so much more, the dead, the injured and the dying.

In this moment his anger grew. He realised he could not ignore the deep sense of righteous rage that burned more hotly with each passing mile, with every tell-tale blackened and scorched piece of earth, with every drop of spilt blood mixed in the air with the stench of gunpowder and hot metal.

With the words of caution his Pa had given him, echoing in his ears, the orders the President of the United States had issued directly to him remembered; these Superman had allowed to forestall his hand, to hold him back.

But Superman understood that at the last he answered to his own conscience, to truth and justice; Superman could in the midst of this war think of nothing but seeing an end to Hitler's work. In a heartbeat, Superman turned away from the gun smoke of Navik, and throwing these cautions to the wind, he pushed himself accelerating South, his destination was Berlin, and the man the Nazi Party called their Fuhrer.

-'S'-

Lois could hardly believe her luck. The First Lord of Admiralty was giving a frank and interesting interview. He was a skilled word smith, and she concentrated on taking down his answers accurately.

Suddenly a bright light distracted her, and she instinctively turned to one side looking for the source.

Across the library shadows moved violently along the bookshelves.

The large room was divided by a balcony which ran across the greater part of the double storey room, with bookcases above and below.

The light flashed, pouring in from outside and through the tall windows, it was as if there were a lightning storm in the courtyard beyond, accompanied by crackling sounds reverberating through the room.

Thompson reacted throwing himself between the strange light show and Churchill.

Lois was not far behind, crouching down, she fell from the armchair as the window exploded outwards, sucking the air from the room, and momentarily pulling the flames out of the fire place in a raging turmoil, then the cold air from outside rushed back in accompanied by a howling roar.

The crackling lightening approached and at its heart was the figure of a man.

The apparition passed through the broken window and swept into the room, a black cloak lined red billowed behind him, and the green face smiled broadly.

Thompson drew his service revolver and shot repeatedly at Wotan as the olden god approached; his bullets hit their target, but were ineffectual as the magical aura around the occult wizard protected the Nazi's agent.

Almost nonchalantly Wotan reached out his hand and remotely by some infernal extension of his will he threw the valiant Thompson to one side. He fell heavily, against one of the bookshelves, collapsing unconscious as the books his impact had dislodged tumbled down on top of him.

Wotan reached forward his hand extending and grasping at thin air, and yet the green fingers seemed to curl around Churchill who defiantly throws his glass at the impossible interloper, only to find himself dragged towards the red green nemesis.

Lois watched dumbstruck as the occult power withdrew from the library, exiting through the broken window, carrying in his invisible giant hands the struggling politician.

Lane scuttled across the floor, Thompson was out cold, she grabbed his gun, and reloaded from shells the bodyguard carried in his pocket, acting with practised speed, her military upbringing again came to the fore.

Then without a second thought she ran and leapt down from the library into the courtyard beyond.

She could see across the green of the lawn, lit by the infernal crackling aura of Wotan, although she did not know him, and beyond the dark outline of the Castle's curtain wall.

She raised the gun took aim and readied to fire.

Laughter filled her ears, as Wotan wheeled around bringing the still struggling Churchill between him and her.

"Go on shoot!" The accent was German. "Shoot him, save me the work."

"What are you?" Lois screamed angrily.

"What are you?" Suddenly Wotan was there before her, wheeling around once more coming down in a ellipse almost to the ground beside her, so close she felt he meant to touch her.

"What kind of woman does not cower before the magic of Wotan?" He demanded.

Lois stepped back levelling the gun once more at his face. "Lois Lane Metropolis Daily Star" She replied pulling the trigger. The gun thundered at point blank range, but Wotan only laughed.

Lois staggered as she felt the iron wrenched from her grasp "An American." I thought as much, the accent told me as much – and a reporter. I could not have hoped for better; now report this, stand witness to the death of the Warmonger Churchill."

"You may kill me you demon, but you will never defeat the British People!" Churchill wheezed.

Then a second light entered the courtyard.

A fist of incredible proportions drove into Wotan, knocking the infernal wizard backwards, and the First Lord of the Admiralty tumbled from the invaders grasp to the grass below. Winded for a moment the elder statesmen fought for breath. Lois ran to his aide, all the while watching the strange goings on in the Castle's courtyard.

Rising out of the ground the ghostly visage of the Spectre appeared as a giant towering even above Alnwick Castle's walls. His white body like translucent ivory, his green cloak billowed like a cloud lost in the night shadows. He was a giant torso, his legs were still fixed deep into the earth below him.

"The Avenging Angel" Wotan spat. "You over reach yourself. Here in this disputed land I have the advantage and you have not the authority!"

"Perhaps that is true." A second voice agreed. "But the Spectre has not come alone."

Wotan span around. From above him floated the golden helmed face of Doctor Fate.

"And I shall wrestle with your magics."

Ghostly the Spectre faded in the darkness. In his place stood the yellow gold of Doctor Fate, his hands extended as energies crackled between him and the black red of Wotan.

Churchill regained his feet and stood by Lois' side, in the darkness he had found Thompson's gun and now resolutely stood beside the reporter.

"Do not fear." The Spectre said, as he appeared beside them, more or less human this time, solid and wrapped in his green cloak. "I shall stand and protect you and this place against the magics unleashed here.

"What manner of men are you?" Churchill demanded.

"I am called the Spectre. The other is Doctor Fate. We are the guardians of the hidden knowledge of the ages, each of us in our own way." The Spectre replied "Knowledge that both empowers us and limits us, because we also know what we should not do."

"Are you hurt Mr Churchill?" Lois asked.

"I'm fine, young lady. You embarrass me, are you hurt?"

Lane shook her head.

"May I say you seem to take all this in your stride?" Winston stated.

Lois looked at the older man. "Sir, it's not the first time I have encountered the strange and the incredible."

Churchill nodded. "That I am sure will make for an interesting story. But right now should we not get you out of harm's way, and get some kind of help for..,"

"Doctor Fate cannot be helped, at least not by anyone here." The Spectre declared.

Lois looked back through the broken window into the library; there was a crowd of people gathering.

"They cannot see us." The Spectre said. "Nor can they see the battle that unfolds. I have covered this place in an aura of mystery. None can see in, nor can they enter, in the same way the combatants are contained.

"Like gladiators in the arena." Churchill noted in a gasped whisper, then with more force, as he stared directly at the supernatural avenger.

"I feel like Hamlet beholding his father's ghost. I can scarcely believe it.

"Spectre." he said, in his frustration his lisp betrayed itself. "What is happening?"

"Dr Fate and Wotan are wrestling magic against magic across several planes of existence simultaneously. As it stands they are evenly matched, this been disputed territory, a land at war."

"If we were elsewhere?" Lois asked. "Like America?" She added.

"Then Dr Fate would have the advantage." The Spectre replied.

"And if this were Germany?" Churchill asked.

"Then the advantage would lie with Wotan."

"Spheres of Influence" Churchill stated.

"Exactly so" The Spectre agreed. "That analogy is most appropriate."

"And you Sir Spirit." The politician asked. "Can you not enter the fight? I swear I will protect the lady with my life."

"I am bound by and to a power even greater than fate. I do all I am permitted perhaps even too much."

Churchill scowled. In silence he was thinking; his eyes fixed on the unnatural battle between the magic of Doctor Fate and Wotan.

Lois looked upwards, in her heart she knew she looked for a red and blue blur, and a red and yellow crest, but as she stared into the starry sky, it was not the Metropolis Marvel that she saw, but something else entirely. Lane gasped a stifled scream. "What are those.. things?"

Screaming a banshee wail the creatures fell upon the castle, their hair like silver fire, their armour sparking like a hot ashes, their mounts like grey smoke, spectral skeletal horses, with leather like skin clinging to mummified remains sprouted great black raven like wings, and fiery mouths and eyes.

Churchill took her hand. "Valkyrie." He gasped. "I cannot believe my eyes, and yet they are here!"

The screaming angels of the slain swept down smashing their supernatural mounts against the Spectre's shield driving their lances into swirling energies of the battle between Fate and Wotan.

"Ha ha ha ha." Wotan cackled. "You are not the only one _not_ to have come alone."

And with renewed vigour the olden god drove Doctor Fate backwards towards the broken window and main building of the Castle.

"Oh where is Superman when I need him!" Lois exclaimed.

The Spectre turned to her and said. "Miss Lane as much as he cares for you, Superman is engaged elsewhere at this time."

Lois looked at the Spectre with stunned wide open eyes.

"But do not fear, for this land has a surprise in store for this new god, newly made."

The Spectre extended his hand, pointing to the ground beneath the warring magi.

Lois followed the direction of gesture and watched as erupting from the earth like jagged teeth emerged ancient standing stones.

"These monoliths long buried, hidden for almost a millennia, are now returned to their original place, forming once again the ancient circle that stood here long ago." The Spectre continued. "This battle is renting the fabric of reality."

Mystical energies crackled between the stones like white hot sparks of lightening arcing from one stone to another.

Within the crackling haze of lightening translucent sphere flickered into existence, one which seemed hold entrapped within it a statuesque horse and rider, frozen in seemed in time. The figure his sword raised in anger, the horse rearing on its hind legs and as Lois watched she became convinced that she was seeing an Knight encased in vast ball of ice.

Melting ice.

Breaking ice.

Cold rain exploded from the centre of the circle as the horse and rider moved suddenly and violently, the animal wheeled, and whinnied enraged, the armoured man's sword swung, his head turned upwards following the path of the screaming banshee wail of the Valkyrie.

Taking his animal in hand, the Knight spurred it forward and suddenly erupting from the equine body vast fiery - and self-evidently, supernatural wings emerged, beating the air around them.

The winged horse took flight, it's bright white coat contrasting the dark skies, but it's rider - he shone like gold.

"Who is that Shining Knight?" Lois gasped.

"Sir Justin, of the Noble Court of Arthur King of the Britons, held in magical suspension for many centuries, released from a dark curse by the magic wielded this night." The Spectre replied as if this event were a no more remarkable than the rising and setting of the sun on any given day.

Sir Justin rode skyward to meet the squadron of Valkyrie, his sword flashed catching light from below as he struck at the Battlefield Spirits lances, which were cleaved in two.

His battle cry was olden English not spoken since the fall of Rome.

The Valkyrie scattered their hissing screams filling the air.

Justin drove again into the midst of them. It was reckless abandon, and although his sword struck true slicing through the supernatural enemy, they leapt from their dark steeds, which vanished into the ether as soon as the Valkyrie left them, and clung to the Shining Knight.

Their blades and lances could not pierce the flesh of the Shining Knight, his armour protected him from them, but his horse was not so fortunate.

As Justin struggled with his attackers, one of their number still in the saddle of the raven winged skeletal beasts swooped down and at white stallion. The ebony shaft of the demon woman's lance struck deep, and the winged horse bucked and whinnied in anguish. Justin tumbled with his steed, even as his sword banished his attackers, with each lethal strike the Valkyrie exploded into a dark mist, then nothingness.

Lois gasped.

The old soldier Churchill put himself between her and the fight.

The horse's supernatural wings beat for the last time, and then mount and rider separated.

The Shining Knight twisted in the air, he did not so much fall as leap from the saddle, his sword hand extended he dived purposely towards the Dark Wizard Wotan.

The olden god his attention fixed on his battle with Doctor Fate, turned at the last moment as the Shining Knights Enchanted Sword ripped through the magical field that held the Magi combatants aloft above the Castles Courtyard.

The Shining Knight struck true, the course of his aim was good, and the blade found Wotan, the Nazi god had turned however, and in doing so avoided the better part of the blow. Even so Sir Justin's steel found the meat of him; the tip of the blade bit deep into the Wizards side. Angrily the green skinned Mage in that moment released a curse against the Knight, sending Sir Justin spinning backwards.

Wotan struggled and fell to one knee as the advantage tipped in favour of Doctor Fate.

Driven by anger and rage Wotan struck back. The remaining Valkyrie turned their attention to assisting the injured Mage, ignoring the Spectre, Churchill and Lane. Lois for her part ran to the fallen figure of the Shining Knight, who lay embedded in the lawn of the Castle Courtyard.

-'S'-

Superman pressed hard across the Norwegian Sea and entered the airspace of the recently annexed Denmark. As the Man of Tomorrow crossed Nazi held territory he felt his great energies draining, and as he flew his speed decreased, at first only marginally, but to him the shifting sensations were unmistakable as they were familiar, could it be, he wondered, that more stray Kryptonite meteors were entering Earth's atmosphere?

For a moment Superman reconsidered his choices, his destination, but the sights and smells of the first real engagement of this new European War, remained equally vibrant and as compelling.

He thought to himself, I have yet to recover my full strength, even now, months after the arrival of the meteors, the falling meteorites, and the reality of my existence here and now - is life with the consequences of Kryptonite. Men are living and dying in war, how can I not intervene? He demanded of himself. Superman pressed on towards Berlin.

-'S'-

Shakily the Shining Knight drew himself to his feet, leaning on his sword, as he rose from the churned turf of the Castle Court yard.

Waving a dismissive hand at the maiden who spoke a language strange to his ears, Sir Justin staggered over to his fallen mount.

Victory as he called the war-horse lay broken and close to death, the wound and the fall had taken a cruel toll. Unlike the Shining Knight Merlin's magic had not clad this poor animal in magical shimmering golden armour.

Justin had no idea why this night's battle should be. Indeed he had no knowledge of the history that had passed him by. The Shining Knight had simply awoken from his slumber directly from and then into the heat of a battle, he had recognised the Valkyrie and Sorcerer for what they were, invaders; and the Shining Knight had acted.

His calling was of the Round Table of Arthur's Court. His part was to act bravely and without question to defend the land of the Britons.

Now as he knelt beside the suffering animal, the pained breathing rasping in the cold night air, he readied to do what had to done.

In Old English, Justin spoke to Victory, soothing words, one last time, friend to friend; and readied his blade to release the enchanted animal from its agony.

Lois for her part could not understand the old English Justin spoke, but she could understand the tone. She called to the Spectre. "Can you not help him?"

The Spectre shook his head. "I am interfering in these events as much as I can."

"It's for the best." Churchill cautioned her. The old soldier knew what was expected. "The animal will not recover from the wound and the fall."

Lois looked away as the inevitable blow struck home.

"Unless Spirit." He said to the Spectre. "There is more magic in this Knight and his mount that we have not yet seen."

The Spectre his arms folded across his chest nodded. "You are right to think this. The Wizard Merlin himself is responsible for the magic that grants Sir Justin his superhuman abilities, and gave the power of flight to his horse. That magic is older and more powerful than even Sir Justin himself imagines.

The Shining Knight withdrew his sword; the wounded animal was released from its suffering. Yet the old magic was not undone by physical mortality, and then from the corpse of the horse arose a ghostly light. A raging fire as wings of flame and magic took form once again, but this time the horse of flesh and blood was left behind in natural death, as a supernatural beast rose from the ground, a horse of magical fire, of red hot steel, as if a statue had been plucked from the heart of a blacksmiths forge.

"Merlin's magic knows not the boundaries of time and space." The Spectre observed.

The Shining Knight if surprised by this transformation soon recovered, his stern and serious countenance melted replaced by a warm smile of unexpected joy as the magical animal nudged him as any horse might, the ancient warrior's hands rand across the incorporeal neck, finding despite the translucency of the fire the flaming horse had substance, and the Shining Knight recognising the battle was far from over, without further hesitation, leapt upon hi fiery steeds back, and in a hearts beat the mount and rider were airborne.

Sir Justin dived back into fight, again charging at the black ghostly steeds of the Valkyrie, his enchanted Sword seeking the Battlefield Spirits once more.

-'S'-

Superman crashed through the window of the Hitler's Office in the Reich Chancellery, seeking the Fuhrer. Breathing deeply the Man of Tomorrow felt the pace of his flight to this location; strangely it was as if the entire territory of Greater Germany were tainted with Kryptonite radiation. Even so a tired Man of Steel was still unstoppable when faced with mere mortal men.

As the wide double doors swung open, guards opened fire with Machine guns. Superman let them waste there ammunition as it ricocheted from his hide. His lip curled in anger as he felt the bullets sting.

He asked himself. Am I so weak so soon?

Superman stepped forward a red and blue blur, his hand delivering a faster than the eye could see knockout blow to each man, before turning his attention to the Nazi's ruler.

Hitler retreated from behind his desk.

Superman could hear the man's heartbeat, the rush of fear driven adrenaline coursed through the dictator. He considered it fitting.

Hitler's hands grasped from the wall a spear.

Superman walked slowly towards the author of Europe's War. In accomplished German the Man of Tomorrow, stated. "I have come to end this madness. End your war."

Hitler's fingers were white with effort as he gripped the ancient weapon. Superman saw a frightened cornered man grasping at whatever came to hand. He was wrong.

-'S'-

Lois Lane watched as the Shining Knight engaged the Ghostly Valkyrie, their dark silvery forms illuminated by the fire of his magical steed, reflecting as he fought from the gold of his armour, and steel of his sword.

Doctor Fate wrestled with Wotan, who despite his wound still held firm, but then without explanation or warning the dark Wizard snapped out of sight. The thunder crack reverberating around about her, Churchill frowned in surprise. The Valkyrie screamed in disbelief or so it seemed. Doctor Fate sagged to his knees the effort of the battle telling upon his mortal frame.

Sir Justin did not give quarter. His sword darted forward, making contact with the Valkyrie's unnatural form, and with each killing blow the Battlefield Spirits dissolved into a black mist, one with their dark skeletal mounts the magical creatures evaporated once the Shining Knight struck true. His Battle Cry rang out above the Castle as riding his magical mount, Victory reborn, he pressed home the advantage, and the last of the ghostly Teutonic angels were despatched by the edge of his enchanted sword.

-'S'-

Hitler's Office in the Reich Chancellery reverberated with the sound of thunder as Wotan snapped into existence between Superman and the Spear Wielding Fuhrer.

"God of War, Lord of the Land!" Hitler spat. "I have summoned you! Crush this gaudy American!"

Superman already stood before the dark Mage. Moving faster than mortal eyes could see, his hands sought the wrists of the Nazi's champion, but the crackling magical field of preternatural energy prevented him from pressing home, prevented his fingers from grasping the glowing hands of Wotan. The green skinned Wizard had arrived ready to fight, his powers crackled noisily.

"Fool." Wotan spat. "This is my country. Here my powers are at their greatest."

Superman struggled attempting to drive home his attack, it was his turn to feel the cold touch of fear, the rush of blood as he fought, as he felt the burn of aching muscle – he recognised something sickeningly familiar in the green hue of Wotan's flesh, it was the unmistakable taint of Kryptonite, the perverted legacy of a dead world, united with dark magic.

Wotan released a directed burst of energy.

Superman found himself forced back, explosively. Catapulted upwards, smashing through the window of the Reich Chancellery out into the night. Gritting his teeth Superman struggled to regain his unique control of mass, to find flight.

Wotan struck again. Snapping into space in front of the Man of Tomorrow, the two titans clashed high above the Brandenburg Gate.

Superman struggled unable to make direct physical contact with Wotan; the dark mage's magic prevented it.

Superman brought both fists down from above his head in blur of speed, speed that Wotan could not match, and the Nazi Champion was driven downward hurtling towards the ground, but even this was only an inconvenience for the green skinned mage, Wotan snapped back to altitude, appearing magically behind Superman to unleash the crackling magical preternatural energies that struck the Man of Tomorrow like concentrated lightening.

Superman fought back in the midst of crackling energies, but it was like wrestling ephemeral snakes. Finally with a burst of speed he broke through to face Wotan again, but no matter how hard the Man of Tomorrow struck him, the dark Wizard resisted. Superman's pace might let him land a blow and send the mage falling through the air; however Wotan almost immediately recovered, unharmed behind his magic, and then he returned to unpredictably counter attack binding Superman in magical energies.

"You are weakening American." The Nazi Champion taunted. "I can sense it – see it – with every passing moment, victory becomes mine."

Superman knew the dark wizard's words were true.

The dark sky was alight with Wotan's lightening, and the air cracked with magic thunder, as Wotan unleashed a brutal assault, Superman felt the darkness of unconsciousness seeping into his eyes, as his vision blurred, he vainly struggled against the onslaught.

Then he struggled no more.

Held in the magical grip of the Nazi Champion, Wotan drew the Man of Tomorrow to him, his maniacal laughter echoing across the starry Berlin sky.

Wotan peered into the sagging features of the limp figure he held suspended. Extending his green fingers he sought out a pulse, the Kryptonite stained flesh glowed as touched the skin of Superman's neck.

The Man of Steel chose this moment to act, playing possum no longer, he summoned all of his great natural strength, and drove his fist into the torso of the wizard, by chance Superman's blow connected with the same injury that the Shining Knight had made in the earlier distant conflict.

Wotan's magical shield was diminished; his skin touching Superman's, his magical armour had been broken – cut open by the Enchanted Sword of Merlin's making. A human punch wielded with determination and desperation opened up this wound once more.

Wotan fell back howling in agony. Superman tumbled backwards, free falling, all but spent, the caped man tumbled towards the paved streets of the German Capital.

Wotan snapped out of the air, disappearing back to the dark crypt – the centre of his power, in the Castle Wewlsburg.

Superman falls unable to summon the power of flight.

He struggles with his cape instinctively catching the wind, the great red sail billows and directs his course just enough, tumbling the caped man falls into the river Spree below, and Superman disappears into the dark waters.

-'S'-


	49. Chapter 49

"Are you Diana Prince?" the hoarse voice on the telephone inquired.

"I'm her room mate." Etta replied.

"I heard your friend was looking for her lost luggage?"

"You don't sound like the man we spoke to."

"Huh me, I'm not, but I'm told there is fifty bucks up for grabs, that's if someone helped you dames out."

"Yeah that's about right." Etta agreed – adding for clarity. "If you've got Diana's things, there is a reward."

"Well I reckon I might have found em'.." Etta looked across at Diana who was following the buxom Texan's conversation.

"If you come down the office on Pier Eighty Eight, and ask for Leo.." The caller instructed.  
"That's you?" Etta asked jotting down the details on the notepad by the phone.

"Yeah that's me." The voice replied. Etta said a quick thank you and replaced the receiver. She turned excitedly to her new room mate, the mysterious Amazon from Paradise.

"Are you leaving already." Etta asked, her voice was one of surprise, as Diana was quickly dressing in her Amazon costume. "Yes." She replied simply.

"And how about I come with you?" Etta asked brightly. Her hands on her wide hips she cut a confident figure. Her heartbeat gave Etta away. Diana knew she was very concerned about Diana Prince. Concerned enough to put her faith in Wonder Woman when all conventional means of inquiry had failed her.

The Amazon picked up her kit bag containing her American clothes, and shook her head. "I can travel more quickly alone."

Etta frowned, clearly annoyed at being left out, but at the heart of the matter was the fear for her missing friend, the real Diana Prince.

Wonder Woman took her hand. "Sister I am simply going to see what manner of man would claim this reward, and if this leads me to your friend Diana Prince, or even news of her – then all the better." Diana's sincerity was absolute, and her aura of strength and truth was enough to instil in Etta Candy confidence.

Wonder Woman turned and slid open one of the two large windows, saying. "I promise I will tell you what I find as soon as I can." At these words Diana dived from the window of the shared Washington apartment the generous Texan had opened to her, and into the night.

The last gift of Hermes granted her flight, and invisible wings now bore her skywards; as she rose above the Potomac her plane took shape around her, an invisible impervious canopy against the elements, and the Amazon Champion disappeared from sight travelling across the starry black sky.

New York – her destination the same port Diana Prince had supposedly landed was quickly reached, and within the hour the Princess's invisible craft swept into the bay and approached the city's Passenger Ship Terminal. Having committed the area to memory on her previous visit the Amazon alighted to ground not far from the eighty eighth Pier.

When the bell of the Office rang as it jangled and opened, the face of a bespectacled somewhat frumpy dressed Diana Prince entered. Her Volunteer Corps uniform concealed the close fitting and more familiar Amazonian garb beneath the ill fitting jacket and skirt.

"Hello." She said. At the desk an unshaven man looked up, he stubbed out a hand rolled cigarette, the room was thick with the strong tobacco.

"Yeah and who may you be?"

"I was in town and I received a call from a friend."

"Good for you. What's it to do with me?"

"Err. I should say I'm Diana Prince. I was told that someone had found my luggage and I should come to this office."

The man obviously understood, and he reached for the phone. A local number later, he said. "Al. That dame you was asking about has come in."

Diana waited for the other man to arrive. Minutes past, and then Al introduced himself, sticking his head around the door. His hat was well made, as were his clothes. Obvious indicators of wealth and status that were universal the world over. Diana had seen enough of American society to guess the second man's rank was higher than that of the first. The Port employee sat in his rough work worn clothes across from her.

"Al Goss this is Diana Prince." He said introducing the well dressed man. He gestured and she followed. Stepping outside she saw two further men waited, one was sat in the drivers seat of the car Goss had arrived in, the other held the door for her.

"I don't understand." Diana stated. "I came for my luggage – where is it?"

Al smiled reassuringly. "We keep the lost luggage in a warehouse down river a while, it's quite a hike lady, this is just my way of being nice, saving us all a walk."

"Oh." Diana answered. "Thank you."

Al climbed into the car beside her. The other man took the front passenger seat.

"It's just a short drive." He said as the car rolled forward.

Diana nodded, she could not be sure. Amazon training ensured she was a fast learner, while she did not yet know everything about American customs, even given her limited experience of Men's World this journey seemed odd.

The men were calm and unconcerned on the surface, but Wonder Woman was Amazon trained, she saw subterfuge, that there was something deliberate about them, an unspoken agenda.

The car drew up beside a large building, there was a weak light coming from inside. Her door opened and Al gestured to her to get out, sliding across he exited behind her, his hand reaching for Diana's arm, guiding her inside the warehouse.

The Amazon heard the door close, and then felt his grip tighten.

"Ouch you are hurting me!" She protested.

"Sit down." Goss growled, pushing her into a hard chair. A single lamp burned above her, the only light alive in the big open space, beyond her were shadows and darkness.

Diana's face flushed with indignant rage, but her wisdom was greater than her pride, and she allowed him to secure her hands behind her back. Tying them to the body of the chair. Not together she noted. That would have meant something different entirely.

One of the other men toyed with a gun, he showed it to her and laughed.

Diana watched Al cross the floor of the large open space. There was cabin inside the larger building by the warehouse doors. A light came on inside, she saw him reach for a phone. He never considered that Diana could hear him across the warehouse and through the closed door, but she could.

"Yes I have her." he said, after a pause, adding. "Yes Baroness she matches the description."

-'S'-

Lois Lane folded the telegram and pushed it into her purse, as she did so the reporter bit her lower lip, her face wore an expression of worry, as she left her London hotel, the cold night air greeted her, and she was glad to climb into the waiting cab. Lane was taken directly to a private address close to the administrational centre of Westminster.

Her thoughts were of her Kent, and Lois reread the message she had received at the Hotels front desk. Clark was missing. Taylor had no idea where he was. Kent had somehow made his way to Norway, and his initial report on the speed of the German advance had been both accurate and unsettling. But after this nothing.

Paying her fare Lane mounted the steps of the tall Victorian Town House, and, tugging on the heavy brass bell pull with her gloved hand, the door opened quickly, a suited butler responding to the sound. He escorted her inside, and she was taken directly to the drawing room where Churchill was waiting.

"Thank you for seeing me again Sir." She stated as he gestured to her to sit down.

"I am sorry that I have been unable to see you until now, and so late in the evening."

"Mr Churchill, I'm grateful you were able, given today's debate, to see me at all."

"You were in the House today?" The weary Minister asked.

"I was." Lois replied. She had been in the visitors gallery of the House of Commons.

"Then you saw us at our best and our worst." He replied.

Lois nodded. That much was true, the debate had been rowdy, and the Speaker of House had been forced to intervene frequently.

"Is Norway lost?" Lois asked directly.

"There has been a reversal of fortune." Churchill replied grimly, acknowledging the withdrawal of the allies from southern Norway. He lent forward. "There is much we should talk about that cannot be published."

Lois had wrestled with her values after Wotan's attack. Patriotism won out over her love of her vocation. "I have not spoken of those particular events at Alnwick Castle – that is with anyone else."

"Except your father." Churchill stated.

"That was our deal."

The old Politician nodded. Lois suspected he knew this to be true already.

"How is the Shining Knight?" Lois asked.

"Sir Justin is in safe hands Miss Lane." Churchill replied, saying. "We are not without our own specialists in this.. area of research.

"I am told he is a quick learner, and he needs to be, much has changed since last he served King and Country."

"Then he is enlisted in your cause?"

"The defence of these Islands is every Britain's call."

"Perhaps I could interview him at some point?" She asked.

Churchill chuckled. "Perhaps. How is your Latin Miss Lane?"

Lois flushed, but the older man was teasing her, he shook his head adding. "I think complete discretion is better for the moment. After all the poor fellow must first adjust to this modern world, and this is no mean feat."

Lois changed tack. "Sir there was much criticism of the Prime Minister today."

Churchill's face was grave. "Let Party be ignored, all our energies must be harnessed – the whole nation must struggle together."

"Can that happen after today?" Lois asked.

"It must." Churchill replied earnestly. "We cannot stumble."

-'S'-

At the bottom of the river Spree a dark figure stirred, the water clouded with sediment, and the shadow was lost in the water, then crawling from the water a figure emerged into the darkness of black night. Drawing himself upright, he ran his hand through his dark hair, still wet from the river.

His eyes peered into the darkness. Something was wrong, he knew it. His thoughts were confused, confusion made worse by the background hum of the city at night. Noises reverberated through the cold air. Behind him a red cape fluttered already dry, Instinctively he drew it to him, the red square snapped free, and shrank in his hands like stretched rubber, becoming a small handkerchief of colour.

Staring at the yellow S on the red background, memories stirred. His emblem! This much Superman recognised.

So much seemed wrong, he tucked the shrunken cape inside his clothes, and crossed the street, catching in the shop window his dark reflection. Superman paused and saw the change – the difference. He touched the crest on his chest, no longer red and yellow it was all but illegible grey on black. Gone was the vibrant blue of his suit, the red of his shorts and boots. Now he wore black.

It was as if the suit itself was in mourning.

Superman shook his head. That wasn't right. He felt he should understand; but he did not.

His eyes picked out the street names, the shop names, his ears detected conversations going on late into the night in German.

He recognised the language, he understood the words, and he felt sure this was not his own. Shaking his head once more, he walked on.

Wandering through the late night the city was largely asleep, still people moved, occasional vehicles made their way down the streets. Superman avoided them all, clinging to the shadows.

As the sun rose Superman felt the warmth and light percolating through the clouds, and he smiled, this he remembered, and then unexpectedly the pain began, he felt as if he was on fire, staggering back into the shadows he fled the day.

Superman quickly sort refuge from the morning, as wrong as this was, the pain drove him, and finding a door open he escaped inside the building.

The household were still asleep. Superman was driven to act instinctively, and he sought out the cellar. There in the darkness he collapsed against the dank wall amongst the coals. His great strength had deserted him. His brow wet with perspiration, finally sleep came to him as a welcome relief.

-'S'-

Wotan sat slumped in his chair in the crypt within the Castle Wewlsburg. He angrily growled as the SS Colonel Karl Willigut approached.

"How are you this day my Lord?" The SS occultist asked.

"In pain you fool!" Wotan snapped, gritting his teeth he rose to his feet, an arm clasped around his waist, the other pointed accusingly.

"Still?" Willigut asked.

"That damn American found my wound, an opening in my armour, cut by the infernal Knight." As he spoke Wotan grasped Willigut in his outstretched hand.

"Have you found out who this Britain is?

"Why my wound will not heal?"

Willigut shook his head. "At least the American Superman fell at your hand. As for the Britain, whomever he is, his weapons and talents are magical."

"Old Magic." Wotan stated releasing the SS officer from his grip. "He is a Sentinel, a Watcher, appointed by one of the old ones.

"I saw him rise from the earth." Wotan answered his own question. An ancient memory rising from one of the many minds whose experiences he possessed.

Willigut nodded. "Your strength is returning, and with it your insight." The Nazi Occultist observed with relief.

"Yes." the old man continued. "You confirm my suspicions.

"We cannot expect to disturb the old gods – to take and usurp their power, without their angels visiting us."

"Pah!" Wotan spat. He sat down heavily. "The old gods have waned.

"Even now they die. But I will heal. I will grow in strength."

"We build upon their foundation."

"Their tombs." Wotan sneered.

Willigut laughed. "You speak the truth, in part - but your overconfidence is the cause of your current... shall I say... condition."

"Do you want to make me angry with you?" Wotan asked with menace.

"Far from it." The SS Colonel replied, leaning closer to his creation. "I mean to empower you.

"There are artefacts – remnants of the golden age of the gods, magic which if wielded by you today would transform the world!"

"What do you mean?" Wotan demanded. "What artefacts?"

"It was from these, ancient writings, objects of power that I learned how to raise you up my Lord." Willigut explained.

"You have something to say to me – I can see it in your eyes old man." Wotan growled.

The colonel nodded saying. "It was by chance I learned of another division of specialist research, and from an German American defector called Lex Luthor of a person calling himself the Ultra Humanite. I was shocked to discover that this individual was in fact my greatest rival. Worse he was playing the party against itself. He sought the self same things I sought, while pretending these unique artefacts to be of purely artistic and historic interest – he had German agents from different offices, competing unknowingly for the same prizes."

"How did this happen?" Wotan asked. He concentrated. Raising his hand. Willigut waited on the dark mage. "I see greed for technology, industrial espionage. Secret agreements – the one hand ignorant of what the other was doing."

"Indeed my Lord. That was his game, agents of the Party unknowingly passing on items that should have by rights come to this place – to be investigated under Project Ahnenerbe, and yet these were traded among mere trinkets.

"Then my great rival promised an advanced American aircraft in exchange for a collection of antiquities.

"Prompted by my meeting with Doctor Luthor, I obtained from him this list, and hidden among works of art and lesser such objects of value, was an item of especial interest. One which agents of this office have been searching the classical world for! It was a revelation." Willigut paused. His eyes wide and his smile broad.

"This artefact can upset the balance of power, and extend the reach of Wotan to the entire world!

"Think of it my Lord – no longer will you be limited to Germany and German held territory – but free to act without restraint across the whole globe!"

Wotan closed his eyes, searching his memories, the recollections of many lives, and with preternatural assurance he stated. "You have found the Hand of Mars?"

"The Fist of Ares, the Glory of Tyr." Willigut replied. "Yes – I believe we have."

Wotan growled an accusation. "It is not yet in your possession!"

Willigut laughed. "It is a matter of time – our best agent has assured me of it. Soon the world will bend subservient to our glorious Third Reich."

-'S'-

Diana waited patiently for the arrival of the gang's leader, the Baroness. A sack had been dropped over her head, obscuring her vision, but not her hearing, and in due course a car arrived. She heard doors being opened, and the distinctive sound of the shoes women favoured in America.

Al approached again, she recognised the sounds he made, his breathing, his smell.

Yanking the bag from her head, Diana's hair worn up under her Corps hat, half fell untidy around her face.

The smell of perfume was powerful, even in the open space of the warehouse, as she approached Diana it intensified. Manicured, polished nails capped extended fingers brushed Diana's chin, lifting her face so that their eyes met.

"Diana Prince." The Baroness stated, her German accent immediately obvious. "You are prettier than your photographs suggest. "Now tell me why didn't you deliver the package to your contact in Berlin?"

"I don't know what you mean."

The Baroness laughed. "Come let us not play silly games. We both know although your luggage _did_ arrive at New York, you did not accompany it.

"What I do not understand is why you would risk exposing yourself now in such a brazen attempt to locate your belongings?"

She grabbed Diana's face. "As I have been through your possessions myself, and I can't for the life of me decide why you'd come here now – unless there is something I am missing?

"What is so important in your luggage? Damn you!"

The Baroness stared into Diana's eyes angrily demanding an answer.

"Perhaps if I knew what you were looking for?"

The Baroness shrieked, and kicked the chair on which Diana sat, she fell backwards hard on the ground. It would have hurt a lesser person, perhaps severely. Diana stared back angry now from ground where she lay still secured to the frame of the chair.

"The Hand of Mars!" The German woman stated, all pretence at civilty abandoned, not there was only cold aggression on her face and in her hand a gun pointed at her captive. "Where is it she demanded?"

Diana's plight was lit by the single bulb above them, and the Amazon's features uncharacteristically betrayed her, so great was her surprise at hearing the name of the object the Nazi spy sought.

Diana's mind accelerated as she sifted through her lessons in antiquity; the history of her people, and that of the gods.

"Hera!" She whispered.

The Baroness laughed. Yes you cannot deceive me, you clearly know what is at stake – or do you think we did not know about your employer, who you were really working for?

Does he have it? Have you delivered the Hand of Mars to Carter Hall?"

Diana spoke from the ground with all the authority of a Princess. "I would never give the Hand of Mars to anyone in Men's World."

Then with flick of her ankle she sent her shoe flying. Like a missile it connected with the lamp above her head, and the Diana Prince disappeared into the darkness.

At the same time Diana snapped the ropes that held her to the chair, and flipped to her feet.

Gunshots rang out, the muzzle flashes briefly lighting the darkness, Diana was gone from that space, as she sailed over the heads of shooters in a graceful leap twisting in the air as she did so, she was consumed by rage, and awe – such was the importance of the Hand of Mars.

In her mind she wished she could throw off the limiting confining clothes of Diana Prince. In her anger, and her concern, in the moment when she considered the importance of the German's demands, in the motion of her somersault, something profound happened. The legacy of the Proteus mask, the magical fingerprint of the god made gift engaged.

The power of the mask had become imprinted on her when the device had been violently broken, the wooden shell had fallen away leaving behind the magic, and this magic now acted brought about by the powerful demands of her trained thoughts. A Diana span through the air her day clothes melted away in sudden vortex of blurring colours to reveal her Amazon Champion's costume.

Alighting to the ground, Wonder Woman recognised the change in her appearance. Her mind raced ahead, the speed of Hermes – coupled with the wisdom of Athena made this a simple matter for her to grasp. Diana understood the nature of the magical legacy of Proteus mask; it had transformed her appearance from that of the meek and mild American woman Diana Prince, to Wonder Woman, the Amazon Champion of Champions.

"Here I am boys." She said.

The men turned and began shooting into the shadows once more, Diana's arms moved at eye-blurring speed blocking their bullets and sending the hot metal harmlessly ricocheting away. Sparks of hot light in the darkness.

She danced past their outstretched arms, removing the guns from their hands and driving them to the ground in one beautiful fluid motion, grasping the wrist, crushing and tugging and turning – flicking them head over heels crashing to the floor, their leader – the well dressed woman, paused her mouth open and closed in disbelief and confusion until her base instincts took control and she ran, her expensive dress flashed under the heavy coat as she hurried for the door.

Wonder Woman casually knocked the last man to the floor with the back of her hand and again with an accomplished a fluid motion loosed her lasso. Diana span and threw the golden linked chain around the fleeing figure.

The Baroness strained against the constriction of the magic lasso, but it was impossible for her but to drawn kicking and protesting to Wonder Woman's side.

"Why, how?" She spluttered.

"The Lasso compels you to tell the truth, you cannot lie to me.

"What are you?" The Baroness demanded. Looking around. "What have you done with the Prince Woman?"

"Who are you?" Diana demanded.

For a split second the Nazi spy struggled against the irresistible power of the lasso, her eyes widened, and resistance was futile – she was compelled now to speak only the truth.

"Baroness Paula Von Guntha."

"For whom do you work? Who wants the Hand of Mars?"

"The Fuhrer demands it." The Baroness responded. She shook in fear, and terror.

"What do you know about the Hand of Mars?" Wonder Woman asked.

"Only that it is an object of great value, and the Third Reich must possess it."

"How is it Diana Prince is involved?"

"Diana Prince befriended German agents in Greece."

"Why Greece?"

"They were searching for the Hand of Mars!" The Baroness spat.

"How did they know of it?"

"The Hand was among a list of artefacts our agents had been instructed to obtain.

While Prince had in her possession information about the Hand of Mars, about it's location."

"How?"

"She claimed this knowledge had passed down through generations of her family, a secret oral history – and she convinced our people in Athens that she was genuine – a supporter of our glorious Führer's vision.

"She used her friendship with our agents to gain access to the Hand, for the secret location was guarded by forces loyal to Germany.

"Diana Prince was able to position herself so it was _she_ that uncovered the Hand of Mars, using our people to help her gain access to the hidden catacombs, something she could not do alone, but once there, it was Prince alone who knew the precise hiding place of the artefact among the undead."

"Then what happened?" Wonder Woman asked, understanding what the Baroness meant.

"Diana Prince fled taking with her the Hand, leaving my countrymen to their fate at the hands of the Tombs guardians." The Baroness noted coldly, the tone of her voice was unmistakable, suggesting these agents had died a cruel death.

Wonder Woman understood this also. "Where did Prince go - and for who?"

"Carter Hall."

"You mentioned this man before. Who is Carter Hall?"

"A wealthy American, a collector of ancient weapons, a research archaeologist by profession."

"And his connection to Diana Prince?"

"As best I know he was her buyer. Presumably he advanced her money to pay for her trip to Europe."

"So what happened to her?"

"We believed she had boarded a ship bound for Spain. Our people found her again listed among it's passengers, but by this time she had reached the port of Santander. There Prince was registered as bound for New York, but when the liner docked, only her luggage was unloaded, Prince herself didn't disembark."

Diana pulled Paula closer to her and asked. "But had she arrived, you were to intercept her and the take possession of the Hand before she could deliver it to this Carter Hall?"

"Yes."

"And so Paula what happened to Diana Prince?" Wonder Woman asked.

"The truth is I don't know. I suspected she never boarded the boat at Santander. That it was a ruse."

"You are sure?"

"No I'm not. I don't even know if Prince came to Spain, the whole chase might have been an elaborate bluff." The Baroness Gasped. "Diana Prince may still be in Greece for all I know!

"I have no idea what happened to her."

-'S'-

George Taylor Editor in Chief of the Daily Star Metropolis lent across his desk – in his hand a cable from Lois Lane in London.

Across the Atlantic the German war machine was on the move. Late May 9th 1940 Hitler's forces occupied Luxembourg, the following day Paratroopers landed at the Hague, in the Netherlands and secured the invaders route into Belgium. The Luftwaffe quickly established air superiority. It was both a daring and unexpected manouver.

Taylor hit the intercom switch. "Alice get in here." He barked.

His secretary walked into the office. "You called." She smiled warmly, Alice was well used to Taylor's moods.

On his table was a mock up of the next morning's front page of the Metropolis Star, it's headline reading 'Germany invades the Low Countries'.

"Here get this story down to the presses.

"Peace in our time' Chamberlain is out of No 10 Downing Street. The new British Prime Minister is that old warhorse Churchill, and our gal Lois Lane has an exclusive interview with him."

"Right away." Alice replied taking the transcript Lois had wired home. She paused saying. "Things are really going from bad to worse over there in Europe."

Taylor nodded. "Lane wants to go across to Paris France, to see the Eiffel Tower she tells me."

Alice looked at the Newspaper man with all seriousness. "I doubt that."

Taylor sucked on his cigarette. "Of course gay Paris is the last thing on Lois's mind, with the Nazi's on the move."

She shook her head disapprovingly, adding. "No word on Clark Kent?" She asked with genuine concern.

Taylor looked pained. "Nope." he said as he stubbed his butt out in the ashtray at hand.

"And Alice since you are still here, this is for the telegraph office." Taylor passed his handwritten note to Alice.

"Now get on with it."

-'S'-

The polished jackboot of the Gestapo officer hit Superman in the small of his back, the Man of Tomorrow groaned back into consciousness, as he drew himself into a fetal position on the floor of the Berlin cellar.

"Who are you?" The Nazi Secret State Police Detective snarled.

Superman did not answer.

" Marinus can this be the one?" His colleague asked.

Marinus Frick shook his head. "He is not unlike the description, but this.. whatever he is wearing, like some wetsuit. Not the colours I am looking for." He cast a glance over to the man who had reported this strange intruder.

Frick dragged Superman - turning him over so his face was visible.

Superman's eyes flickered as he held his hand shielding his face from the weak rays of light that permeated the cellar from the tiny ground level window.

A heavy punch landed, and blood trickled from Superman's lip. Frick rubbed his hand and frowned.

"He bleeds, he appears human. Not like the one we search for." Frick obsevered. Then he looked to his companion.

"Heydrick - take him away. Perhaps we can make sense of this at our office."

"Yes Kriminalrat!" Came the response, Superman felt the firm hands of men used to manhandling people drag him upright, he lapsed into a stupor only to cry out once more when he was dragged outside.

Wrenching free from his captures, Superman even in his weakened and confused state was more than able to send the Gestapo men flying. Tumbling back from his sudden rage, the Secret Policemen fell to the street stunned by the sudden ferocious outburst. Superman appeared completely detached from these events, having broken free of them, the man in black fell to his knees and moaned, covering his face with his hands, hiding from the sun.

"Interesting." The Kriminalrat – the Gestapo Detective, Frick, circled the anguished man for a moment, and then threw his long leather coat over Superman. The cries of pain stopped. Quickly indicating for his people to take hold of Superman once more Frick, barked his orders to the stunned underlings.

They gingerly approached the fallen man, cautious now Superman had revealed his great strength, and yet now covered by Frick's coat he seemed content to allow them to manhandle him once more.

"Put him in the van quickly." Frick ordered, angry at their reticence. Scowling the Secret Policeman dragged the Man of Tomorrow roughly to secure him in their vehicle.

Throwing Superman into the back of the truck, their unpredictable captive huddled there in the shadows once more.

"This cannot be the American we are looking for?" Heydrick commented as he slammed and bolted the Gestapo wagon's door shut.

"This man certainly does not possess the abilities we were warned of." Frick acknowledged. "However I suspect he may still prove of interest to the project."

Heydrick nodded. "The aversion to sunlight, the madman's strength?"

"I have my suspicions." Frick agreed.

When Superman recovered consciousness again he found himself secured in iron to a heavy chair. The dark integration room was sparsely furnished, a table and a second chair. A high window was barred and told him that it was night again outside.

The arresting officer entered, his Gestapo uniform crisp and well tailored. Frick settled himself across from Superman.

"Cigarette?" He asked politely offering his pack to the Man of Tomorrow. Superman paused and looked long and hard at the tobacco.  
"No thank you." He replied his German effortlessly natural, despite his confused memories, the Man of Tomorrow reacted appropriately, remembering one of the many languages he had learned as a boy.

"Your accent is very good. But I can tell immediately that you are not native to Berlin. I would wager you are more a citizen of the world?"

Frick smiled, it was hollow gesture, but he persisted.

"You are well travelled no?

"Wealthy after all these years?"

Superman remained impassive, but shook his head.

Frick chuckled as if unconvinced by this gentle protest.

"But always a late sleeper, I'd wager - a true creature of the night; I am right am I not?"

"I don't know what you mean." Superman stated, fixing his blue eyes on the Gestapo Detectives.

"I'm quite sure you do. Your madman's strength, your obvious discomfort when exposed to daylight."

Superman strained against the steel that held him, still weak the exertion made him nauseous. "I need a drink, please a little compassion?" he gasped, giving up; the chains held.

"You think I am easily persuaded?" Frick laughed. Then leaning close he whispered. "I have been instructed in the dark arts _by your kind_, and now I am not open to suggestion." The Gestapo officer stood up, as he turned to leave the interrogation room he said.

"You will remain as you are, weakened by thirst. Do not interpret this as anything more than an expedience. This will make your transport to a secure location much easier, it will keep you weak, and controllable. There wise members of your race, who are loyal to the glorious Third Reich will determine your fate."

-'S'-

Cordell Hull placed the strongly worded communique on the desk of President. FDR adjusted his wire framed glasses as he read the document issued by the Third Reich's Chargé d'Affaires Hans Thomsen. The diplomat had taken over the running of German Embassy in Washington in 1938. Roosevelt had recalled the American Ambassador from Berlin in protest over the Kristallnacht excesses. Nazi forces had orchestrated violence aganist Jews and Jewish property, leading to scores of deaths, thousands of arrests, the burning of Synagogues, and the ransacking of homes and businesses. It was smashing of so much glass; shop windows, and homes, that had given rise to the infamous name for this orgy of destruction.

Now Hans Thomsen had contacted the State Department to voice his governments protest.

The President frowned deeply.

"Is there any way to confirm this?" He asked his Secretary of State.

"I have asked Alsos to try and contact Superman. There is a system in place. However as of yet he has not received an answer." Cordell Hull responded.

"Yes, I recall - a telephone is installed on the Daily Star's roof in Metropolis, which rings with a tone that only Superman can hear." Roosevelt lit a cigarette.

"Mr President, given Superman has not responded to Alsos, rather gives credence to the Nazi's claims."

FDR nodded and a serious frown crossed the old man's face.

"Damn it." The president said under his breath.

"We need to ask is this; would Superman decide to act by himself?" Hull asked.

FDR indicated he should continue.

The Secretary of State made his point. "To go it alone – to take on directly a foreign Head of State - this is a serious matter.

"Especially given that you, Mr President, spoke with him personally - brought him in from the cold as it were, giving him a legal and legitimate role in the service of this country." Hull responded.

"Perhaps you right." FDR acknowledged. "But things have changed since I first spoke with Superman, the war in Europe has entered a new and bloodier phase, we teeter on the brink of a calamity.

"Truth is Hitler makes _me_ as mad as hell. If I could drop in on him out of the blue and punch him on the nose, then maybe I would try to just do that."

Hull smiled at the President's jest, but said. "But this isn't the way governments do business; a direct attack on a head of state – that sets a dangerous precedent."

"I'm not immune to the obvious old friend, the dangers of breaking the age old conventions of matters of State. Yet I find myself sympathetic to the idea of making this personal; taking this war to Hitler's doorstep."

"There are many who do, and many who take a different view."

"I have my fill of the isolationist arguments in public." FDR snapped, puffing angrily on his cigarette in the signature holder.

Hull raised a placatory hand. "In this matter Mr President and in others." Hull paused, mulling over the issue. Then he said. "There are those who think recognising these vigilantes, especially those called Meta-Human - whether at home or abroad, in any way shape, or form, is the greater danger.

"Hitler maybe be able to make mischief here, but German power does not pose a threat to America, whereas these vigilantes..."

"Yet." The President qualified Hull's statement. "Hitler's reach does not extend to America yet. In time it surely will, unless he is stopped in Europe."

FDR picked up the German communique. "We'll issue a standard denial, skipping any specifics, neither confirming or denying the existence of Superman. The United States can honestly say that it's Government has no knowledge of, and neither did it sanction any action by persons known or unknown."

"And what if the Germans have eliminated him?"

"The claim 'They can meet any threat face to face?' " Roosevelt noted. He coughed. Pausing before continuing. "This could be a smokescreen to distract us from the attempt on Churchill's life in Britain."

Hull nodded. "Of course Mr President, following the resignation of Mr Chamberlain, Winston Churchill has succeeded him as Prime Minister.

"Mr Churchill's warnings about Nazi Germany's rise and intent over the last few years largely went unheeded, now he is both vindicated and rewarded with leadership of his country.

"The British are now much more likely to stand and fight, rather than sue for peace. It's clear as to why the Nazi's would have preferred a different outcome."

Roosevelt pressed his hands together.

The President knew his old colleague well, they had worked together in their respective roles since 1933. "Cordell what is troubling you?" He asked.

Hull frowned. "It strikes me that this could all be inter related."

"How so?"

The Secretary of State continued to explain "I'm not sure. It's just that the same reporter, the girl who first broke the Superman story in Metropolis was at the scene of this 'Meta-Human event' in Northern England.

"Revealing to us another two caped vigilantes – both possessing powers beyond those of mortal men."

"Their intervention undoubtedly saved Winston Churchill's life." FDR observed.

"That may well be true." Hull acknowledged. "Yet I must ask - if it were not for this girl reporter Lois Lane's first hand account coming to us via her father, would the British have told us about this?" He asked, adding.

"Would they have acknowledged how close this Nazi agent came to assassinating their new Prime Minister – if the situation were reversed would we?" The Secretary of State's question was rhetorical. FDR did not argue the point. Hull sighed heavily saying.

"The situation is of course made all the more fantastic because of what Wotan is reportedly able to do."

The President rubbed his tired eyes. "My friend, I find myself increasingly called upon to take the fantastic in my stride. Like Alice in Wonderland, I find myself being asked to believe six impossible things before breakfast." The President said with a wry smile.

FDR looked again at his papers on the desk before him "Lane – same name as that Colonel I met, the one attached to Alsos."

"Yes his daughter."

"Yes I remember now – the Metropolis Daily Star." FDR paused. "Useful girl. Has anyone approached her, inquired whether she would be interested in a more formal role?"

"I'll look into that Mr President."

"War often makes for strange alliances." FDR said.

Hull agreed. "I'm sure the British – and many others foreign powers across the globe, are interested in securing the help of individuals like the Shining Knight."

"Friend and for alike." FDR agreed, then he came to a conclusion.

"For the time being instruct Alsos to look into the veracity of these German claims about Superman.

"Also Cordell, you are right." The President began.

"We need to consider other options, especially in regard to the unprecedented rise in these Meta-humans."

Hull nodded. "That seems wise."

FDR looked grim, he coughed weakly. Then said. "It's clear the Nazi's have enlisted the services of a home-grown Meta-human, and if we accept the implication contained in the Nazi's complaint - one powerful enough to stop our own Superman" The President picked up the letter once more. "The American Superman's aggression was met on equal terms and defeated." He quoted.

"If this is true, then project Omega has more to worry about than a hypothetical rogue Superman or similar Meta-Human American national gone bad. The real threat comes from our enemies employing such men, even mastering the science that makes such things possible." FDR looked at his Secretary of State directly saying. "If that happens, if the average German infantryman becomes some sort of Super-Soldier, then God help us."

-'S'-

Superman felt nauseas, his world had been turned upside down, his very nature had been corrupted, his body was at war with itself, the sun, the life giving light of day, had become like a poison to him.

He sweated alone in the Gestapo custody, first in the truck, then arriving at a rail terminus he had been bundled into a dark box car, lit only by cracks of light through the body of the freight carriage. This was his prison as the train bounced along the tracks away from the German Capital. Superman was too confused to recognise the direction which the Secret Police had sent him, and too weak to care. Only the rumble of the rails gave him a sense of the passage of time, drifting in and out of consciousness it was night when the train arrived at it's destination. The doors of the carriage opened and he rose to his feet as the cool air swept in, and with it two men.

Moving with speed and confidence they took hold of him firmly.

Superman struggled, and to his surprise he felt inhumanly strong resistance. They dragged him clear of the train, jumping from the car and landing on the ground still holding Superman in their firm grasp. He struggled some more, the night air seemed to clear his head.

Sensing this perhaps a third man struck him, the blow was more like that of a heavy hammer than a fist, Superman fell back but held upright by his captures, a second blow heavier than first brought unconsciousness.

-'S'-

Steve Trevor struck up his pipe. He stared at his handwritten notes in front of him and contemplated the details of the outstanding report for Colonel Darnell. Steve's thoughts were interrupted.

"Why have you released Baroness Von Guntha?"

Trevor turned around, Wonder Woman stood beside the window of his office. Her costume glinted in the sunlight. Her arms were folded across her chest. Her eyes looked at him accusingly.

"If you had remained at the warehouse until I arrived I could have explained." Trevor responded.

"Why have you issued an arrest warrant for Diana Prince?"

"Prince is implicated in certain criminal activity." Trevor replied.

"So you believe she is a spy?"

"Questions must be asked, and she like you, did not hang around to answer them."

Diana considered this decision; she had promised to speak with Etta directly, to tell her what their investigation had uncovered, and as an Amazon she had given this promise priority over the conventions of Men's World.

"She left with me." Wonder Woman explained, asking. "So why release the Baroness."

Trevor sighed. "While her behaviour _is_ suspicious, simply being at the warehouse was not itself illegal.

"Worse, she means to press charges against you and Diana Prince, claiming false imprisonment for starters. She was as mad as hell when we arrived, hours of being tied up in that old building hadn't helped her mood any."

Wonder Woman was not impressed. "I called you by telephone and explained I had captured Nazi spies. Men who had seized Diana Prince. I told you their leader was the Baroness."

Trevor stood up. He took a deep breath. "Wonder Woman I believe you, and America is grateful that you wish to help us.

"But, without any evidence of wrong doing, neither Military Intelligence or the Police, could not hold these people."

"What of Diana, don't you believe they took hold of her, misused her?"

Steve Trevor frowned. He could see the Amazon was frustrated. Wonder Woman was angry at the American way of doing things; she felt her word was being questioned. This situation was the opposite of what Darnell had ordered Trevor to arrange, and honestly it was the opposite of what Steve himself desired. Winning Wonder Woman's trust, and bringing her over to the American cause was an assignment Trevor welcomed.

"I believe they did. I believe this because you tell me it is so."

"Then act." Diana replied.

"Please see that it isn't that simple. I wish it were, but these people claim Diana Prince was involved in smuggling antiquities."

Wonder Woman paused, Etta had spoken highly of her, but she had acknowledged that the real Diana Prince had made the wrong kind of friends. Diana knew that simply seeking out the Hand of Mars was in itself a dangerous and foolish act. That Etta's friend appeared to be involved in this search was reason enough for the Amazon to be deeply troubled.

"They are still Nazi's." She stated. "Diana Prince is one of your own."

"That maybe, but Mr Gross states he and his men are working for the Baroness trying to reclaim property belonging to her family, specifically art works stolen in Europe and shipped to America."

"Yes, Diana Prince is attached to this office, she maybe an innocent entrapped or any one of number things – I don't know.

"But what I need, what this office needs, is evidence, proof these people are spies, proof that can be presented at a trial – before a jury, do you understand how we prosecute crime in America?"

"I am telling you the truth Captain." Wonder Woman stated. "Just as I would before a Judge and jury."

Steve walked across to the Amazon.

"Look beautiful, I believe you absolutely I do, but I have to play this by the book, Von Gunther is well connected, to the Austrian Royal family, to influential and wealthy German American's and so on. I need really strong evidence to bring her to trial.

"Steve, then I will find you this evidence." Wonder Woman replied.

Steve Trevor smiled broadly. "Really you'd do that for me." He said with a wink.

"For Justices sake." Wonder Woman turned lifting the window she glanced back at Trevor's stunned face as she disappeared out of the window.


	50. Chapter 50

Superman awoke in heavy chains, immersed in darkness. The chamber was almost devoid of light, and stone walls wept with dampness, there was an earthy smell emanating from the floor, and the silence – the absence of background noise led him to conclude he was underground.

Superman was uncertain how much time had passed since his one sided battle with Wotan above the streets of Berlin, too much time had been spent in confused semi-consciousness for him to even guess at the days - possibly - weeks that had passed. Now in the cool of the dungeon Superman felt his clarity of thought was at last returning.

He strained against the chains, but they held fast. These were not ordinary bindings, but huge, vast links of steel forged together, the last time Superman had seen anything like them they had been attached to ocean going ships at Metropolis docks. A mortal man would have collapsed under the weight of so much metal. Whatever they were designed to contain, was man shaped but not man powered. A fact that did not escape Superman's attention.

Could this he wondered be another legacy – another hiding place of the Ultra Humanite, or his kith and kin, some long forgotten creature of legend.

As Superman considered his situation, he cast his mind back to his arrest, and as he did so a terrible thought entered his mind.

So it was when his solitude was ended by the appearance of his jailer – or at least a representative of the person or persons responsible for his current condition, the characteristics the visitor displayed only confirmed this, his darkest suspicions.

The figure was of average height, moved with certainty in the pitch black conditions of this damp dungeon.

Superman's natural senses remained heightened, and he could make out the man's features, the confidence in his movements, the way in which he was inspecting Superman was predatory. He wore long robes after the fashion of a Monks Habit, in the darkness Superman could not be certain but he thought them a deep blood red in colour.

The stranger sniffed the very air Superman breathed, and pressed his cold skin of his fingertips to the pulse in Superman's neck.

He stabbed there with his long nails. The Man of Steel's skin did not yield.

The first vocal sound he made followed, and it was unmistakably a curse but in a language Superman had never heard.

He then drew a knife and stabbed with great force, piercing Superman's hand taking a drop of his blood to his lips. Bizarrely he tasted the knife, before spitting in disgust.

In German the other said. "You are not human, and yet you are not one of us; the Gestapo did right to send you here, but they did so for the wrong reasons."

The Monk paced from Superman's right to his left. "You are something else, you appear to be human, your breath and pulse are strong and vital, but your hide is harder than it ought to be, and your metabolism faster, I see the wound I inflicted is already healing. I can see given these traits, and your sensitivity to sunlight why the Gestapo concluded you were of our race."

"Your race?" Superman asked. "What manner of man are you?"

"You are not in a position to ask questions. By rights I should send you back from whence you came. I am sure Gestapo would be pleased to receive a Meta-Human."

Superman strained once more against his chains.

"However your abilities and weaknesses interests me, and I am inclined to learn more about you myself, perhaps you are variant of our kind?"

Superman did not reply. In the darkness the Monk smiled to himself, and left Superman alone once more.

-'S'-

Wonder Woman left the coast of America, leaving the New World for the old. Her invisible plane swept across the turbulent Atlantic. The Amazon Princess at the helm, secure within the belly of her magical transport, protected, insulated, and uniquely able to cross over to Themyscira, Island Paradise, and for Diana always and forever home.

"Mother." Diana stood in the Queens chambers. Light from smokeless fires flickering from bronze standards, outside the sun rose across the waters that encircled Thermyscira.

"Diana." Hippolyta turned to greet her, placing a kiss on her daughter's cheek, the Amazon Queen's embrace was full of love and relief – joy that her child stood with her once more.

"I hadn't expected to see you again so soon darling. Is everything all right? Has Men's World treat you kindly – I mean as well as is possible among these barbarous males?"

Diana smiled and nodded, chuckling softly. "I am well, Men's world is violent and cruel, but spectacular; there are great evils – but equally great goodness."

"Why is it I doubt that goodness brings you home?" Hippolyta asked.

Diana's blue eyes confirmed her Mothers suspicions. "What is it child?"

"The Hand of Mars." Diana replied. "It appears it has surfaced once more."

"Hera!" The Queen placed her hand on Diana's shoulder. "Walk with me to the Temple of Athena, and tell me all.

The two Amazon's walked in the morning sun. The Queen regally resplendent, her Royal Purple robes glowed in the light. Diana glinted golden in the bodice of the Champion of Champions.

As they walked the marble promenade between the Palace and the house of the goddess, Diana recounted her adventures. She spoke of Etta Candy's generosity; how the buxom Texan had adopted her, as a friend, and a cause. How together they had co-opted the identity of the missing Diana Prince in an attempt to discover what had become of the young volunteer officer in the Women's Auxiliary Corps, and how this had led to the Hand of Mars.

Menalippe, the Seer, greeted them as they mounted the steps of the Temple. Diana embraced her.

"My heart rejoices to see you Sister." She said.

"Princess, and mine with yours." Menalippe exchanged kisses of greeting, in her eyes Diana recognised the shadow of fear.

"You know why I am here."

"Your arrival explains my dreams." The Seer replied.

The three women entered the sanctum. "You come seeking information regarding the hiding place of the Fist of Ares."

"Yes." Diana replied. "I have reason to suspect a young women from Men's World has already discovered it, even recovered the Hand. If I am to put this thing right I must know where to begin.

"I know the cult of Ares was strong in the North of Greece, in the mountains, but I come home to ask exactly where in the high country the crypt is hidden? This way I know where to begin my search both for Diana Prince, and for the Hand."

"If the Fist of Ares was to fall into the wrong hands..." The Queen said, stopping short of saying what she feared.

"Then the destruction, the devastation, all that I foresaw engulfing the world – the fires which burn brighter than the sun and the war that will consume everything, it will come – for that is the desire of Ares's black heart." Menalippe said it plainly.

"This artefact is his. He gives it life, and it's use will only hasten his ascension." She added.

Hippolyta stared out across the peaceful Temple Courts. "The Fist of Ares enabled Alexander to conquer the world, the Roman Legions followed, then came the armies of Ghengis Khan. Empires built with nothing but sharp iron, and an iron will."

The Queen remembered, and shuddered; saying. "Imagine man armed with the modern engines of destruction. Imagine the science of Men's World empowered by what the Romans came to call the Hand of Mars."

She turned to Diana. "Never has the Amazon's mission been more important."

Diana was humbled, she was her peoples Champion, their Emissary.

The Queen looked at her daughter in sorrowful acknowledgement, and with a quiver Diana nodded in agreement.

Then to her Seer, the Queen said.

"Take my daughter and give all the assistance she requires.

Menalippe nodded and bowed her head. Turning she gestured to her Princess. "Diana please come with me, there are maps within Athena's library that reveal the place you seek." The seer pointed to the chambers of learning that lay in the Temple of Wisdom.

Hippolyta reached across and took Diana's hand.

"After you are done in the library, return to the Palace, I shall have you speak with Mala and Phillipus."

"Of course Mother, they are wise wariors." Diana replied, adding. "I will find the Fist of Ares; the Legions of Rome, the armies of the Khan will not march nor ride again."

"I hope you are right darling, I pray you succeed."

-'S'-

Bruce Wayne Gotham city socialite stood on the deck of his yacht, the Lunar Lady. At over three hundred feet long, the ship was one of only a handful of private vessels of this size. This was a privileged club; the members of which were European royalty, and a handful of the super rich; oil barons, and industry magnates, like Wayne. The infamous playboy and heir to the Wayne family fortune. The company was not a house hold name in the same way as the likes of the Ford Motor Company or Standard Oil, but it many ways it was as important, if a less visible institution. The Wayne's had since the Civil War built an immense fortune on the back of industry, manufacture and above all innovation.

What you bought might be courtesy of General Motors, but somewhere in the build process key components had been cut on Wayne lathes, pressed by Wayne Machines, and invented by the in house research division.

A stunningly beautiful woman, her dark luxurious hair falling in fashionable curls across her bare shoulders drapes her arm around the muscular form of Wayne. There is a haunted look about her, and sadness in her eyes, her voice is bright enough and she rebukes him.

"Bruce aren't you going to shower? You're sticky."

Wayne, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts turns to her. "Julie Madison, I do declare you are the most infuriating of women. Surely you have grown accustomed to my morning routine by now?"

"Really darling yet more exercise? I swear when I agreed to marry you I didn't realise you were so focused." She laughed.

"Perhaps I should have stayed in Gotham. Instead of joining you here."

"Oh Bruce, don't say that, I've missed you terribly." Julie pressed her lips to his cheek, turning his head with her hand so their lips met.

Bruce let his mouth linger on hers. Then he said. "Really sugar people would talk if they could see us now."

"I wish they could see you as I have grown to know you." Julie stated, holding her engagement ring in the light. She smiled. "This rock would make the gossip columnists chatter. Imagine Bruce Wayne, an eligible bachelor no longer."

"You really like my serious side?" Bruce countered. "Wasn't it the playboy who won your heart?"

"Bruce if I'd thought for one moment that party animal thing was anything but a game - a front – hiding the real you, well I'd have never have said yes to your proposal." Julie kissed him again. "Now tell me you're not happy you came?"

"I just happy you are feeling better, you gave me quite the turn in Paris."

"I know – I'm so sorry, flaking out like that, I wish I could remember what happened."

Bruce's lips tightened, he dare not explain to her he knew more about that night than he should.

"I hated the idea of a long cruise, when the doctor suggested it, I thought I couldn't stand to leave you – not for one minute."

Bruce shook his head, that was both the truth and a lie, she hadn't wanted to travel to Europe, a continent on the brink of War, but some force was compelling her, she was acting without realising what motivated her, and Julie was not able to recognise that it was happening.

"Hush baby, I'm here now, let's not talk about the nightmares." Bruce replied, looking out at the beautiful blue Adriatic Sea towards the Yugoslavian coast.

Beyond lay the Kingdom of Hungary, as his fiancé buried her head in his chest, Bruce's thoughts returned to vengeance.

-'S'-

The Amazon Champion of Champions flew towards central Greece.

Here magnificent rock formations tower into the sky. Called Meteroa - literally meaning suspended in the air, the region possesses an air of age old magic. Some of these pillars of grey stone are the home to Byzantine Monasteries perched impossibly on the vertical cliff tops, reached by spindly bridges suspended over the abyss.

Over this ancient and beautiful land the invisible aircraft of Hermes special gift silently descended. Wonder Woman's magical airframe swept across the Plain of Thessaly, to it's north western edge along the Pindus Mountains – the spine of Greece.

Menalippe had directed her to an ancient shrine, one of the holy places atop the towering cliffs of Meteroa. Now under the clear starry sky Diana approaches her goal. Her internal compass, a legacy of the gift of Hermes that means both flight and the way and means to fly, confirms the location, and with the fortress in sight the invisible aeroplane folds around her, and Wonder Woman soars on invisible wings that bear her bodily towards the hilltop Monastery.

Wonder Woman alights within it's courtyard. The Amazon Seer's cautions echo in her memory; as does the advice of Mala, and her successor Phillipus, telling her of the foe she should expect to face. Her sister Amazons had forewarned Diana that this place was not what it seemed.

At the Monastery's heart is an ancient building, one that is surrounded by a crumbling façade; all is shrouded in darkness, and as quiet as the grave. Built long after the hey day of Grecian gods, the ostensibly Christian Fortress lay on the foundation of a far older pagan alter.

Like the incredible Pantheon Church of Rome this place had been co-opted by the new faith.

Although the shrine to Ares had long ago been superseded, Diana could sense a lingering malevolence remained.

Perhaps the Monastery had been founded with good intentions, and it's purpose perverted by an older evil. Or perhaps this hermitage had always been a wolf in sheep clothing, a camouflage for the continued observation of a way of life older than Christianity. Wonder Woman did not know which.

Again the advice of her sisters echoed in her mind, whispering caution and vigilance.

Wonder Woman waited patiently concealed in the shadows of the cloisters watched the Red Robed Monks walk in the moonlight.

Waiting until one of their number passed her hiding place alone, Diana struck. Amazon training equipped her with many way to immobilise, she struck the base of his head first, and felt the acolyte collapse under the force of her knock blow, the youth fell unconscious at her feet. Thankfully she sheathed one of the silver daggers Queen Hippolyta had given her as a parting gift, Diana was glad not to need the silver blade.

Dragging the fallen Monk into an empty cell, she relieved him of his robes, and secured the stunned man to the cot in the small room, tying his hands and feet, and gagging his mouth, even though she was certain it would be sometime before he regained consciousness.

Emerging from the individual prayer room, Diana proceeded concealed within the enveloping hooded robe. She made her way deeper into the ancient site, to the Temple of Ares that was now a Church, and to the entrance to the catacombs below the marble edifice.

There she paused making sure she was alone. Her ears told her the building was sparsely populated, a handful of Monks acting as little more than caretakers or so it seemed.

Diana slipped through the concealed opening and began her descent. She considered that whatever power this place had possessed once, that power had faded. Crumbling like the later Monastic buildings as times changed.

Wonder Woman had found at first the idea that Diana Prince, an modern American woman, had secured the Hand of Mars too incredible to believe. Yet now as she made way under the ancient shrine and into the tombs below, Wonder Woman saw that is was all too easy. She now believed the Hand of Mars was in the reach or mortal men once more.

The catacombs were a complicated maze of tunnels, containing tombs, and ossuaries, light from a candle in the Monks robes was more than sufficient for Diana to navigate the crypt.

The main vault lay deep within the rock of the cliff upon which the Shrine had been constructed. Athena's Library had been clear, this was last resting place of the Hand of Mars, that Ares had entrusted this object of power with the lamiae – also according the the Amazon records called the Vrykolakas. Mala had told Diana that contrary to appearances it was these creatures that the Red Robed Monks served, and not the Christian God.

Diana entered the underground cavern it's walls decorated with rich paintings, and the symbols of the cult of Ares. This was unrepentantly pagan.

In the centre of the domed ceiling was an opening. A shaft disappeared upwards through the rock until it reached the night air above them. The pale silvery light of the moon penetrated weakly into chamber through it.

On the far side of the shrine lay the altar, the focus of the room. This stone table was lit by candles, and sat between stone pillars, while behind the one handed god looked on, the likeness was an avatar of Ares, the god of blood lust and combat, styled after his northern incarnation, called by the northmen Tyr. The alter itself was bare, in the candle light Diana could see where the Hand of Mars must have once stood, a pale area of stone was untarnished, surrounded by a darker ring of stain. The chamber lacking the centre piece, the fabled Fist of Ares was indeed stolen.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" The hoarse voice demanded.

Wonder Woman turned surprised. The red robed figure had appeared suddenly and without warning, as quiet as the grave.

This stealth alone betrayed his true nature.

Flinging her disguise aside, Wonder Woman decided to put aside subterfuge and tackle the matter head on.

"I am the Amazon Champion of Champions – Emissary to Men's World." She declared. "Vrykolakas where is the Fist of Ares?"

The figure hissed an inhuman curse, the red hood fell back to reveal an ancient face, but one lacking any of the deep lines of age, one that had appearance of marble.

"Gone!" The creature replied even as it leapt at her, closing the gap between them in one great bound.

Wonder Woman, crouched and drove up to meet the assault tumbling with her attacker in the air, as for a split second they wrestled each other. Both a blur of movement, but when gravity brought them down, it was the red boots of the Amazon Princess that found the rock floor of the chamber, and her hands that drove the Vrykolakas flat on his back to the ground.

Snarling the red robed figure bucked as it tried to scramble free. Wonder Woman raised him up at arms length, before pressing the silver dagger to it's throat.

The creature's struggles ceased as the cold metal touched its flesh.

"I know not how you chose to live, whether you prey on the innocent, or simply entrap people in your thrall, whether you are a predator or a parasite." Diana stated.

"I will however spare your life this night, if you answer me this – what happened to the Fist of Ares?"

The creature's dark eyes were wide in fear, but it answered Wonder Woman.

"A band of thieves descended upon us, killing acolytes, and seeking the Hand."

"What happened?"

"They escaped." It spat. Angry, and resentful. Wonder Woman knew he was determined to resist her.

Diana released the Monk. The Vrykolakas slumped to it's knees, his eyes fixed on her blade. With a flick of her wrist Diana let her Magic Lasso settle around him.

"Now tell me where did they go?"

The Vrykolakas struggled with the compulsion, and for a long moment the strange man resisted, but the golden chain's will was unbreakable, even for a supernatural creature like this one.

"The Others have it."

"The Others?"Diana demanded. "Who are these people - how did this happen?"

"We – of this House, of this tribe, are few now, weakened. While the Others are stronger.

"The Wolf Brotherhood have coveted the Hand for centuries." The Vrykolakas shrugged in defeat. "Now they have it."

"Where?" Diana pressed.

"Across the Sea – in the Land of the Wolf."

Wonder Woman understood. "This Wolf Brotherhood is of your kind, but a different Tribe?"

The creature nodded.

"There was a woman, an American, called Diana Prince – do you know what happened to her, was she with those who took the Hand?"

"I don't know her name, there were mortals here when the Wolf Brotherhood came, we thought they were in league with each other, either way they all left together." He replied.

"Why?"

"Because the other humans were German; and the Others have allied themselves with the Nazi's, they presumably win favour with by returning with them."

"Where did they take the captives – and the Hand of Mars?"

"The Wolf Brotherhood are found to the East in the lost Carthalan Mountains called these days Hungaria, their principal Fortress is a Monastery by the turbulent river Dess, it lays close to the border with Greater Germany. If they are any where I would wager all are there."

Wonder Woman resisted the impulse to end the monsters life here and now, but bound by her word she released the strange Monk, snapping her lasso to he side, before leaping upwards, her legs powering her through the light wells opening above them.

Wonder Woman hurtled through the long shaft and burst out into the night, like a bullet from a gun, she powered skyward. Her hair whipping around her face in the wind until as she spread her arms wide and her invisible plane unfolded around her, the twin engines spinning silently into life carrying her speeding eastwards across the Adriatic sea, into the Balkans.

-'S'-

"Who are you?" Superman asked. The noise of his chains clanking, hulking steel links against each other, reverberated as he moved.

The woman had been deposited in a dead faint into the same dungeon as the Man of Tomorrow. Now she stirred into conciousness.

Quite why his solitary confinement had been ended, and why his new cell mate should be a pretty dark haired woman was far from clear, certainly the dark robed jailer had not given any indication as to why this had been done, but Superman had his suspicions.

In the darkness the woman could not see who was speaking, and she cowered at the sound of his voice.

"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

The girl turned from him, terrified by her situation. The chains that weighed her down were tiny in comparison to his, but deliberately they ensured she always remained within his reach.

"I think this is a test of my nature." Superman said after a while. "They want to know whether I am like them, whether I'd hurt you. I won't. I promise you that."

The young woman looked up, her face followed the sound of his voice, but the darkness was impenetrable to her human eyes.

Finally she spoke. "My name is Diana Prince."

"I am.." Superman paused, he had adopted the title Lois Lane had created for him, but here and now he hardly felt it was appropriate, he was embarrassed by it, and by his predicament, his powerlessness, and although the darkness of the dungeon prevented Prince from seeing his face, or his changed costume, Superman felt anything but Super – and nothing like Clark Kent

"Kal." He said. "My name is Kal." That much was true, his alien birth name seemed the closest thing to the truth at this moment in time.

"Do you know where we are?" He asked.

The Woman's breathing settled, her heart rate although elevated slowed, as her confidence in him increased. "I think we're somewhere on the Austria-Hungarian border." She replied. "Where did you come from, you're American, like me right?"

"Yes – I was in Berlin, then I had a run in with Hitler's Secret Police."

"Oh." Prince replied.

Kal waited for her to speak, and then he prompted her. "And how come you are here. Do you know what this place is – who is in charge..."

"Yes." She said sharply. "This is a Monastery Fortress, belonging to the Red Monks."

Prince sighed. "I'm sorry, but I thought you knew the truth, the truth of what they are.."

"You mean that we are being held by Vampires?" Kal asked.

"Yes." She answered in a near whisper. There were tears in her voice.

"I guessed as much." He said. "Don't worry I'll get us out of here."

Diana Prince's weeping now included laughter. "Oh you will – will you. You don't even know where you are."

Kal chuckled. "But I'm feeling more like myself, so I think will."

"Thanks – but this isn't the place you escape from." She replied.

"We don't know that."

"I do.."

"How do you know, how did you come to be here?"

"Long story."

"Well we're not going any where right now."

Sighing, she sniffed, wiped her tears, saying. "I was studying classical history in New York during a seminar I spoke about my family coming from Central Greece, and the myths and legends that I had been told growing up.

"When I mentioned the Hand of Mars, the Professor became very interested, the short of it is, he – that is Professor Carter Hall, persuaded me to do a paper on the legends, and to further my research he said Di, most people call me that, why don't you go to Greece, he said, go meet your grandparents and their extended family. Research the old legends. Write a paper.

"I said 'sure, if you are paying.' y'know I didn't think he was serious – but he comes out with this talk about a _special_ scholarship program that covers this kind of thing. Next thing I know I'm back in the old country.

"Everything was swell, it was like a holiday, and I got to meet my relatives, see the countryside."

"I sense a but coming." Kal observed.

"Yes. The but – well I ran into some German archaeology students on a field trip; or at least that's what they told me. They were researching pretty much the same area of classical history as me.

"It was interesting and exciting, and they were really sweet and generous. Too generous I guess in hindsight, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of something else entirely."

"I'm guessing they weren't ordinary students?"

"No, of course I didn't find this out until much later, by then I was caught up in the adventure of it, finding this long lost antiquity, I'm sorry to say I saw fame and fortune in it."

"Okay how does that bring you to here."

"All I know is that with the German's help, and via the information I'd gathered for my paper, we found the hiding place of the treasure. An old Temple to Ares, serving as a Monastery today. However it wasn't your regular brotherhood of monks."

"A brotherhood of Vampires?"

"Yes – Vrykolakas is the Greek term. Although I didn't believe in anything as crazy as this – couldn't believe it until I saw them with my own eyes, but by then I was already there at the Monastery!

"Okay most of the 'monks' we encountered were human servants; but Kal the Germans were _expecting_ Vampires, they came armed, with stakes, silver, garlic, holy water, and they fought hard."

"Like soldiers?" Kal observed.

"Yes – I realised too late they were spies – Nazi agents, not students. Any way things were getting out of hand, so I just ran. Everyone else was fighting everyone else, I slipped through, and made a break for it.

"I got away – finding myself lost in the catacombs, in the chaos I ran some more – and more by luck than design I stumbled into the crypt where the treasure was kept – it wasn't really hidden, it was just there on the alter in plain sight.

"Then the opportunity presented itself; there it was, the Hand, I don't know now why I grabbed it, I just didn't think the Nazi's should get a hold of it."

"Then what happened?"

"I was caught trying to get away. At first I assumed it was the Greek Brotherhood, the guardians of the Monastery – of the treasure, but I was wrong, these were a different group altogether, and that's how I come to be here."

"The Gestapo told me they were friends with this Brotherhood of Vampires."

Diana Prince said nothing for a while.

"I guess that is what happened, these Vampires are allied to the Nazi's."

Their conversation was interrupted by arrival of light, the lantern flickering presence was a welcome sign of life in the darkness, it also betrayed that a human being was visiting them.

The man wore robes like those of the Vampire, and a stylised skull and bones symbol adorned his hooded robe. He placed food before both prisoners.

He spoke to them in German. "Since you clearly are not interested in feeding on her, the Master has graciously seen fit to see feed you."

Diana Prince cowered in fear until the heavy door was closed behind him.

Kal was able to pass her the bowl of vegetables, his eyes operated in the near absolute darkness, she took the food gratefully. Kal in turn ate his share, certain now that Diana Prince had been introduced to him as a test, to establish what his true nature was. He finished the simple broth quickly, glad for something at last, and whether it was the food or something else working in him - he did not know, but the Man of Tomorrow fell himself drifting into sleep once more.

-'S'-

Bruce Wayne hated putting Julie Madison in danger, but he knew this was the only way to force the enemy to reveal his plan.

It did not matter how strong his argument was, Julie was compelled by an unseen hand There was nothing rational about her behaviour, it had begun in Gotham, and now it had brought them to the Adriatic, and now it drove her to go ashore.

Wayne watched the Motor launch pull away from his Yacht and take his fiancé the short distance to Yugoslavian coast, with her were some of his most trusted employees, former Marines, who were both his body guards and staff on ship, his sailors were without exception navy veterans. The Lunar Lady had a crew of thirty, all of them personally vetted. He considered them all trustworthy.

However Bruce preferred to operate alone and in secret.

He had made his excuses to the crew, saying that he had business he needed to attend to. The Lunar Lady had a powerful radio system and Wayne could relay telegrams to the US. The time differences meant it was reasonable for him to appear to work alone in his study all evening, as it was still daytime in America.

Once Julie had been taken ashore, Wayne instructed his skipper to sail away from coast, taking the Lunar Lady into the night, out of sight of habited land around the tip of a rocky peninsula.

Then Bruce waited in his office. The radio call came in from the Motor launch moored back at the small coastal town's harbour. "Boss, this is just to tell you that Miss Madison insisted on travelling into the country without us. We tried to dissuade her..."

"Don't worry about that now." Wayne replied.

"It was just like you told us. There was no reasoning with her." The former marine stated. Adding. "Miss Madison left in a horse drawn carriage the coach was dark red in colour and headed along the main east road our of town."

"Was she alone?"

"No sir, I sighted somebody waiting in the coach, but we didn't get a close look at who it was, because they didn't get out. Also Miss Madison told us go back to the Lunar Lady."

"That's what I was expecting. Okay you can return to the ship." Bruce replied, switching over to the ships internal telephone, he called the Bridge.

"Skipper go dark." He ordered.

The command was sounded, a bell rang across the ship for the men to return to quarters. Only the bridge crew stood at their stations.

Bruce made his way aft, unlocking a series of doors that accessed the area directly beneath the long open recreation deck. Within was a concealed hanger.

Wayne tripped a series of switched, across the Ship the deck lights dimmed, and electric shutters closed off the windows that faced the rear deck.

Moments later the hanger doors shifted on great hydraulic rams, opening like a clam.

Inside the a masked figure was already aboard a dark aircraft, the hybrid helicopter's top rotor was already engaged, and as soon as the aperture was opened sufficiently the plane took off vertically. Quickly it rose, and immediately beneath the hanger doors began to close once more. As the ship regained it's normal sleek appearance, the strange plane was already disappearing unseen into the night sky.

Below the shutters lifted on the Lunar Lady's windows, and the deck lights came on once more.

The strange aircraft swept landwards high above the sea. Wings had unfolded, and the drive to main rotor was stopped, it's blades continuing to auto rotate providing additional lift, and a rear facing propeller engaged, the plane accelerated forward, as it crossed into the coastal town where Julie Madison had boarded the strange red coach, it's dark silhouette was greeted with a shout from the street below.

"Ah a giant bat!"

The distinctive plane, with it signature serrated aerofoils followed the road east. It was not long before it's pilot caught sight of the red carriage, it's colour visible because the horses driver had paused beside a Coaching Inn. The pilot watched as they took to the road once more.

The dark winged vehicle followed, overtaking the archaic mode of transport. The plane swooped low, and the top rotor engaged, allowing the aircraft to hover, some distance ahead of the slower horse drawn vehicle.

From beneath the plane a hatch slides open and repelling down a winch line a dark figure drops to the ground.

The Bat-Man adjusts the radio control attached to his combat style belt, replete with multiple pockets, and the Bat-plane reels in the line, and begins to climb and circle, following an automatic holding course.

The Bat-Man surveys the scene, and waits.

The Coach rounds the bend, perched in a tree alongside the road, the Bat-Man waits. Then at the right moment he launches into space suspended on the end of a silken cord, the Bat-Man races overhead, and drops like a huge bat, onto the speeding carriage.

A skilful blow lands on the driver's neck incapacitating the lone coachman, allowing the Bat-Man to haul in the reins, at the same time he whips out a pellet of choking gas from his belt, and hurls the disabling cocktail into the carriage, the fumes swiftly overcome the occupant of the cab, while the Bat-Man applies the brake, and controls the horses to a stop.

Dropping to the Roadside the Bat-Man peers inside, expecting to see his fiancé and the man responsible for her strange compulsive behaviour.

Instead of his quarry the Bat-Man finds a beautiful woman. For a moment he believes all is lost, then he spies a broach, a stylised cross in diamond with a skull motif in white gold. He smiles recognising the symbol.

Reasoning the unconscious women must be connected to Julie Madison's inexplicable behaviour the Bat-Man takes hold of her and bounds back up the road signalling by radio to the automatic pilot aboard his aircraft to return to the original hovering position.

The winch line descends and securing himself to it the Bat-Man and the unconscious woman in his arms are both swiftly reeled upwards carrying them into the waiting bat-plane.

-'S'-

Wonder Woman checked her position, the gift of Hermes meant she was able, provided she was given a real location, to travel to that place.

The location of the Brotherhood's Fortress on the Austria-Hungarian border was one such destination, and her mental lode-stone, the psychic compass of her gift read to her that she was coming up upon the river Dess, and the false Monastery.

Reconfiguring the body of the Plane by an act of thought, Wonder Woman soared on invisible wings down towards the towers and buttressed walls of the Brotherhood's Fortress.

Here according to the Greek Vrykolakes the Others held captive Etta Candy's friend and her namesake, and perhaps the Hand of Mars.

Wonder Woman hovered over the River Dess, peering into the Castle Monastery. The Day was breaking and with the sun she reasoned came tactical advantage.

Somersaulting over the defensive walls Diana landed in the inner court yard.

The Hungarian Brotherhood here had far greater resources, this edifice was well maintained. Many red robed acolytes, human guardians of their nocturnal masters, were quick to react to her arrival.

Wonder Woman ignored the shouts and cries of the men as she made her own way into the main building, the heavy oak doors breaking apart as the Amazon kicked them asunder.

Walking inside Diana was met with gunfire, pistols and rifles had been found, but the bullets ricocheted harmlessly from her bracelets, as she leapt across the medieval central hall, spinning through the open space landing aimed kicks at the gun men while fending off their fire with her armoured wrists.

Like a lethal dancer she incapacitated the first wave of red robed attackers.

Her lasso flew around the last man standing, the one whom she judged to have rank and position, she had seen this man giving the others orders – taking charge of their defensive action.

"Tell me where are your Prisoners – and where is the Hand of Mars?"

"The prisoners are in the dungeon. I know nothing of the Hand of Mars." He responded immediately to the Magic Lasso's power.

"Where is the dungeon?"

"Beyond this room there is a staircase that takes you below, the dungeons are beyond the great cellar, at the deepest point, they cannot be missed." He stated wide eyed.

Diana knew he told her only the truth. She released him. "Run man, I am compassionate. Your masters will not be when they discover you gave up the location of their prisoners."

His startled face spoke volumes, and without hesitation he ran away from her into the daylight.

Diana stepped over his fallen unconscious comrades, as she marched onwards and down the spiral stone staircase into the darkness.

-'S'-

Kal heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire, he paused listening intently for more clues as to what was happening above. He heard shouts, and screams, undoubtedly some kind of fight had broken out above him.

A man of action the Metropolis Marvel was down, but he was not out, weakened by Wotan's perverse Kyrptonite tinged magic the Man of Tomorrow, was reduced to his base state, the power of yellow sun had been stripped away from him, but his natural strength was returning.

Kryptonian basal physiology was evolved to cope with conditions far harsher than Earth norms. Even without the power of the Sun driving his unique cellular powerhouses, the last son of Krypton exceeded human norms.

Now he sensed it was the time to try once more to break free.

Kal strained against the chains that held him, the steel complained and groaned as he placed his foot on the last link and pulled his wrist away, it was the weakest point, and the heavy metal bands around his left forearm snapped free, then he repeated the action with his right.

"What is happening." Prince yelled, the first metallic crack reverberated loudly in the darkness.

"I am breaking free." Kal responded, his words followed by a second snap of metal giving way.

"How can you?" She asked him.

"I am feeling stronger, more myself – I told you to expect as much." Kal moved with confidence in the darkness and finding Di's chains he broke them freeing her, then he placed her at the back of the dungeon chamber.

"Stand there Di, I am going to get the door open."

Taking hold of the heavy metal and oak frame, he pushed and twisted popping the heavy portal apart.

Coughing and wheezing with the level of exertion he gestured back to the woman to follow, she was looking at him, stunned by the sight of the open door, and glad of the torch light that percolated through into the previously pitch black room.

"Come on." Kal called.

Together they ran, he stumbled more than once, he had spent what little reserve he had escaping. There was only one obvious course to take, they were are at the deepest point of the subterranean structure, with no where else to go but up the fleeing former captives eventually came upon a battle scene.

Wonder Woman had rounded the last corner of the large spiral staircase descending from the Keep above, to enter a large dark chamber, that ran out under the Monastery's cobbled courtyard. A great central pillar supported the tall ceiling of the cellar crypt. Smaller sub-rooms ran off to either side. Tombs for the resting dead. On the far wall was the entrance to the dungeons. It was simply a matter of crossing the open space inbetween.

Diana's Amazon trained senses determined she was not alone, from within these hidden crypts the foot soldiers of Brotherhood emerged.

They stood between her and her goal. These poor souls had once being young women, now they were a legion of supernatural warriors directed by an unseen hand.

The Vampires, hissed in rage, awoken from their normal hours of sleep, but entombed here beneath the Castle they were untroubled by the suns rays. Daylight did not penetrate this cellar, instead only the flickering fire of torches, a concession to the human servants of the Brotherhood.

With banshee screams the undead launched themselves at Wonder Woman, attacking using teeth and finger nails like claws, with abandon.

The Amazon, fought, her every limb a weapon, twin silver daggers flashed, the charmed metal cutting the Vampires flesh and driving them back, and yet the preternatural creatures were numerous, both fast and strong; adept at protecting themselves, and fighting like a pack, they took injury in their stride.

The silver blades dug deep, cutting and slashing, the vampires flesh sizzled angrily as the metal acted as if acid dipped, the silver slipped through undead meat and bone like a hot knife through butter. A necessary reaction, for silver even when wedded to a core of steel was a soft metal, a metal that lost it's edge all too easily. Of course these peculiar blades were not made for use against mortal bodies, and Diana had no need for an edge against mere human foes.

The Vampires she took down fell around her, crawling away, their agonies made all the worse by the silver's bite, but their condition was only temporary.

Diana knew this. Fire was the only sure way to destroy them, and her first concern was finding their captives, setting the Fortress alight would not help her do that.

Silver however did buy her time, the undead would heal, but the a cut made by a silver blade healed far less quickly than one made with steel.

Eventually, if she held fast and did not fall, every last one of these harpies would be too broken to fight, too busy trying to reconstitute their preternaturally preserved and perverse youth.

The battle was not hers yet however, and victory was not certain, she had speed – her Amazon training, but they had numbers and the vampires fought recklessly - as creatures possessed, for they were.

Diana bled from wounds, from cuts made with teeth and claws, it was the nature of the magic lent to her by the remnants of the Aegis Shield of Zeus. Her reforged Bracelets could defend against any attack, but the shield's magic had to be directed, the Aegis effect had to interrupt the assault – as her adamant bracelets had done with bullets. If an edged or pointed weapon passed by this shield, the Amazon was human enough to bleed.

Diana twisted and turned. She back flipped out of harms way, thrusting with her hands driving back three attacking harpies with double handed circular slashing motion, her blades flashed both right and left bringing down her attackers at each side as she brought her boots to contact the third front and centre. Her somersault completed she crouched gaining half her distance again. The mass of vampire maids now lay on the other side of the cellar.

The charged her, Diana now crosses her bracelets, and in doing so concentrates the Aegis Shield's ancient power, the horde smacks directly into an invisible wall of energy and is scattered back as Wonder Woman drives her crossed wrists forward – a powerful talisman, smacking like a remote punch at the enraged vampires.

They tumble like leaves blown in the wind, bouncing and twisting, snapping and breaking against the stone, tumbling amongst their fallen comrades, it is a welcome respite, but only that, as the supernatural creatures lay healing, and those not struck down by silver recover speedily.

Wonder Woman looks behind her, ready to repel yet another attack, two figures emerge from the head of the stairs, coming up from below.

A man in black and woman in a soiled and stained dress.

The woman cowers in fear, but he tenses his hands ready for combat, Wonder Woman shifts her stance, as he leaps.

To her side the vampire harpies rise, one at a time as they heal, three, then five, desperate enough, insane enough, they leap at her howling banshees screaming obscenities in a dozen languages living and dead.

Diana readies herself for an attack from either side, but the man's leap carries him past her, his aim centred beyond her, he lands in the centre of the Vampire horde, his style was straightforward, essentially street fighting. He begins punching away, grabbing and wrestling down the creatures, Diana could admire his spirit if not his artistry in combat.

Turning to his companion, Wonder Woman correctly judged her to be both human and terrified.

"Come her sister, I will protect you."

"What are you."

"I am Diana of the Amazons – Men's World calls me Wonder Woman."

The poor terrified woman giggled briefly almost hysterical. "I am Diana too."

Wonder Woman took her arm. "Diana Prince?"

"Why yes! How...?" Prince gasped.

A vampire recovered to Diana's right, and leapt towards the two women, Wonder Woman grabbed her Tiara and tossed is hurtling toward the attacker, Apollo's Discus knocked the creature to the ground striking the vampire's head before rebounding back into the Amazon's hand.

"Etta Candy sent me." Wonder Woman replied, the threat defeated, at least until the vampire regenerated.

Prince mouthed her friends name stunned.  
"Who is the man?"

"Kal." Prince responded after a moment, she pushed her matted her back from her face. "He was a prisoner like me, but he broke us free, I don't know how – but he is very strong." Prince explained, adding as after thought. "he didn't hurt me – bite me I mean, I don't think he's one of them."

"He serves us by keeping them occupied." Wonder Woman observed, she unfurled her lasso, and brought the golden line back in her hand like a whip.

The chain flashed across the void wrapping itself at her behest around the great centre column that supported the cellar's arched ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Prince whispered.

Wonder Woman answered her in deed not word, and yanked on the unbreakable line, the cord tightened against itself and the stone pillar. Wonder Woman pulled, the masonry cracked and the stone crumbled.

Kal roared pushing the harpies from him, they scratched and bit his exposed flesh, the clamoured, screamed, grabbed, punching – slashing, but he wrestled on, he fought with all the strength he had left, he could see how the creatures wounds healed as they lay around him, even as they rose to fight once more, it was like they were the tide and he the beach, the ebb and flow of the battle was endless, but his reserves were not, starving, tired, poisoned by perverted Kryptonite - sickened by magic, Kal knew these creatures would overcome him, but in this desperate moment he had clarity.

He had seen how the costumed avenger had fought, he knew _she_ must be some kind of meta-human, he had hope, if not for himself then for the women called Diana.

The central support crumbled. He could hear it and feel the falling rain of masonry, the hail of broken stone.

A voice called to him. "Kal!"

"Save yourselves." He cried, as he threw himself into the melee for what felt like the last time.

Above him the column holding the ceiling collapsed, and with it a portion of the roof, above that the Monastery's courtyard crumbled and daylight rushed in.

The hail of stones, became a bombardment of blocks and cobbles, raining down on the creatures around about him, and burying Kal with them.

As the pillar fell Wonder Woman snapped back her golden cord with a flip of her wrist. She stood protectively over Diana Prince. Wonder Woman's bracelets crossed, the expanding Aegis swelled around her, deflecting the barrage of debris from her impromptu demolition.

Then the worst of the collapse was over, above them was blue sky, and the crashing thunder of falling stone was done, just the occasional crack as pieces fell from the periphery of the hole.

Wonder Woman took Diana Prince in hand, carrying her to her shoulder, the Amazon Champion took flight leaping into the blue.

"What of Kal?" Prince gasped as they landed on the high fortress's buttressed walls.

Wonder Woman was looking intently at the devastation below, the vampires preferred being buried in the rubble to enduring the pain of sunlight and those that could not find the shadows, actively covered themselves with whatever came to hand, the consequences be damned.

The mass of stone looked like a decaying corpse alive with worms writhing their way through it.

Then breaking out of the debris rose a single hand, followed by another, head and torso, a face contorted, suffering and anguished. Battered bruised, and bloodied.

"There, that's Kal!" Di said excitedly. "I'm sure of it." but even as she was speaking Diana had acted, the lasso flashed down and snatched the man in black from the rubble, at the same time Diana grabbed the other woman around her waist and leapt into space, invisible wings took flight and the plane formed around the Amazon Champion, as she drew to her the limp body of the man she knew as Kal, pulling him inside the airframe as the plane climbed above the land of the wolf.

Diana lay Kal at the back of the cabin, once inside the aircraft the had slipped into unconsciousness.

"Where are we." Di spluttered. She peered through the translucent hull, the planes skin was clear like glass around her, but in places it became smoky – almost frosted, revealing it's shape and form, the function of it's fixtures and fittings.

Wonder Woman gestured to such, saying. "Take a seat Di.

"This is my aircraft." She explained.

"Who is flying it?" Prince asked sitting in the glassy chair, which despite it's appearance felt much like any padded seat.

"I am, by a form of mental telepathy." Diana lent over Kal, taking his pulse, and gauging his temperature, understanding something was very wrong, something that required more than a cursory medical examination could diagnose, strapping him down with clear bindings, she made sure he was secure.

Wonder Woman then turned to Diana Prince, checking her over and buckling her in at the same time. "I'm sorry to have to tie you in." She explained, wrapping her golden lasso around the woman, adding "But vampires take more than blood from their victims, they mesmerise humans, if you have been in their thrall, you could at any time enter a hypnotic state, and act out their instructions."

"Oh God help me." Di gasped.

"It's going to be Okay." Diana took hold of her namesakes hand reassuringly.

"Where are going?" Di asked the Amazon.

"I'm taking you my home, to the Islands of Themyscira, or to more be more accurate the Island of Healing. Amazon Doctors will check you both over. My people are skilled in occult science, we can heal many things that Men's World cannot."

"What can you tell me about him?" She asked looking over at Kal.

Di shrugged. "He said he was captured by the Gestapo in Berlin, given over the the Wolf Brotherhood because the Nazi's thought he was a rogue vampire. However I heard a Brother say he was... I think he said a 'Meta-Human', whatever that is, and not a vampire."

Wonder Woman sat at the controls, there was a rainbow like effect which replicated dials and switches in vibrant colours.

"I expect the vampire meant he is not undead, but rather an exceptionally gifted man, there have been great warriors in the past, mighty men which were of old, men of renown." Wonder Woman replied.

"He did break us both out of our prison." Di observed.

"Then it appears, perhaps their time has come again." Wonder Woman said, as the plane powered westwards.

"Thank you Wonder Woman for all you have done, are doing."

"Don't thank me yet, you have questions to answer." Diana replied firmly

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know where the Hand of Mars is?"

"The Hand? How do you know about..."

"It is my business to know about such things, and it is my duty to ensure the Hand of Mars does not return to Men's World." Diana's hand tightened around the other end of her Lasso of Truth.

"The Brotherhood has it." Prince responded.

"Not the Nazi's?"

"No." Prince replied firmly. "The Nazi's wanted it, I tried to get the hand away from them..."

"For Carter Hall?"

"No." Prince replied firmly. "Professor Hall sent me to Greece to research the Hand legend, he didn't ask me to go and find it."

"He didn't pay you to steal it."

"No!" Prince said again. "Look Wonder Woman, I'm sorry that I got in too deep, but going after the Hand wasn't my idea, not at first, I did get carried away with the wrong people, and yes I took it, I admit that, but truthfully I didn't want the Nazi agents to get hold of it, that's all."

"And apparently neither do the Brotherhood." Wonder Woman observed. "Their alliance with the Nazi's is clearly one of convenience."

The invisible Plane sped across the Adriatic approaching the Greek Islands, here the gift of Hermes opened up the rift in space time that separated Themyscira from the rest of the globe. Their magical conveyance slipped through the deep purple lightening filled void safely emerging over the waters that surrounded the island paradise of Themyscira.

Diana engaged the Mental Radio and communicated with her sisters by means of this Amazonian device, informing them of her return, and most importantly that she was not alone; that she needed to land on the Island of Healing.

Wonder Woman piloted the Plane to the outlying compound. Setting her bird down on the level grassy plain to the west of the Temple complex, she taxied to a halt close too the Amazon's Centre for Healing. Her sisters were ready for her, and received both Diana Prince, and the man she knew as Kal.

Once removed from the cocoon of the plane, he became delirious, his body twitched and his skin became wet with perspiration.

"This is a strong one." The Amazon doctor Althea observed, as she directed her colleagues, the Amazons carried the Man of Tomorrow with some difficulty from the invisible plane.

"What is wrong with him?" General Phillipus asked, her eyes noted the Princesses battle distressed condition, the cuts and the bites on her skin. The appearance of the Royal Guard mandatory given the Princesses foreign companions.

"I suspect he is suffering some magical malady, but without the proper instruments I could only observe his symptoms." Diana replied, she gestured to Prince.

"This American woman was held prisoner by vampires from the Land of the Wolf and is most likely under their thrall."

The General folded her arms. "And the Fist of Ares?"

"The Wolf Brotherhood has possession of it, having taken the Hand from the Vrykolakes – the two tribes are fighting because of it."

"Men. Even the supernatural ones are the same." Phillipus observed. "Such infighting only heightens the likelihood that Fist of Ares will fall into the hands of mortal men, and if it does another new Empire will rise to dominate Men's World."

"Yes." Diana acknowledged. "That is why I intend to return immediately to the Lands of the Wolf, to continue my search for the Fist of Ares."

"No." The voice was that of Althea. The Chief Amazon Physician took hold of Diana's arm. "Princess you will go no where until you have spent some time under the Purple Ray. Vampires bites carry their disease; if sufficient saliva - enough fluid is passed through multiple wounds it can be enough to transmit the curse, you should go no where until you are cleansed of disease by the healing rays of our Great Crystal."

Diana could have pulled away from Althea, but the steel hard eyes of Phillipus spoke volumes. "The Queen has told me to make sure you are healed of any injuries." The General stated. A command underlined by a dozen of the Royal Guard's finest Warriors. Wonder Woman flashed her a confident grin, as much to say she liked these odds.

Diana however chose the wisest course. She shrugged. "You are right Althea, it would be foolish not to attend to my wounds." and with those words she accompanied the Doctor to the Temple where the great healing crystal was housed.

-'S'-

Carter Hall smiled at his girl, Shiera Sanders took his hand, as she sipped her coffee, outside the busy streets of New York bustled with people, inside the Diner, the radio played, there was a big band playing swing, this mixed with sound of the patrons chatter.

Sheira was a pretty girl, with rich chocolate hair, and dark eyes deep with mystery, Carter could stare into them all day. He rubbed a hand through his own blondish curls. Beside him on the table he had unfolded a Newspaper.

"So what's happening in the world?" Shiera asked him, distracting his attention back to her once more. Adding "And since when did you start taking the Metropolis Star?"

"They have a reporter in Europe."

"Really - and the New York Times doesn't?"

"She's called Lois Lane."

"A girl reporter! Okay that's something - is she pretty?" Shiera asked, her tone teasing.

"They say she looks like that starlet, oh what's her name, they could be twins." Carter struggled to remember. "Dolores De Winters." He said after a moments thought.

"Oh I get the interest now." Shiera pouted playfully, aiming a kick at his shins.

"Ow!" Carter laughed, saying. "No silly, she is a good journalist."

"Good I'm glad my Professor hasn't had his head turned by just _any_ pretty girl."

"Okay how about this." Carter said seriously. "She interviewed the New British Prime Minister a while back, and they say she is in France reporting on war."

"Europe." Shiera stated. "I remember so many wars." She said with a sadness that suggested she remembered more than could be gleamed from history books, even though she was no older than her early twenties.

"Have you heard from Di?"

"No. I expected a letter last week, I sent a telegram over there, but still nothing." Carter replied, his frown betrayed him.

"You are worried too."

"Of course, Europe is a powder keg, the fighting is spreading all the time. Miss Prince should be fine in Greece, with her family, but we both know there can be more to myths and legends than first appears."

"I'm sure she is fine." Shiera said reassuringly, but they both knew it was more a hope and prayer than a scientific truth.

Carter looked at the Star once more, drinking his coffee the Researcher shook his head. "Listen to this." he began reading from Lois Lane's article.

"The new Prime Minister today asked the House of Commons to endorse his newly formed unity government.

"Addressing the Members of the British Parliament, Winston Churchill gave an impassioned speech, that left this correspondent in no doubt about his determination, but also laid bare the dire situation the Allies face, in resisting the forces of Nazi Germany. The Prime Minister said. 'We are in the preliminary stage of one of the greatest battles in history' – against 'a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark, lamentable catalogue of human crime.'

Mr Churchill said he had 'nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat. We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering.

'You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: Victory. Victory at all costs — Victory in spite of all terror — Victory, however long and hard the road may be, for without victory there is no survival.'

"She then says the next article will be written from France."

His girlfriend pushed her coffee cup away from her, shaking her head sadly. She then looked at Carter directly.

"Darling have you considered seeking out Diana in Greece?" Shiera asked.

"I find myself thinking of nothing else."

"I've never flown so far." She replied.

"Neither have I" Carter said taking her hand once again. "Perhaps it is time we really stretched our wings?"

-'S'-

Diana stood on the beach that flanked the Palace of the Queen. Her childhood home.

The beach had a special meaning to her, it was here Hippolyta had seen a vision of the goddesses, led by Athena, the Amazon's patrons had answered her mother's aeon old prayer for a child, and from sand they had formed a primordial clay, clay that in Hippolyta's hands was given human form, and life – a baby girl, a child who Hippolyta had called Diana.

A foreign name, borrowed from the modern world. The world she had been chosen to enter as her peoples Emissary.

Beyond the golden sands lay the bluest of seas, Diana paused in the morning sun, refreshed after basking in the healing Purple Ray. She stood deep in thought, considering her mission, and not just the immediate challenge at hand, to secure the Fist of Ares, but her greater mission to subvert the spirit of Ares completely, to snatch Men's World from the Thrall of Mars, to return it to Venus; to end war and bring a love of peace.

"Thank you."

The baritone was rich and deep, both unexpectedly charming and at the same time alarming – so unexpected was the sound of man's voice on Themyscira, it was unthinkable. Diana span around, the gold of her costume glinted fiery in the morning light.

"No MAN may set foot on Themyscira!" She declared angrily. Her stance immediately that of the warrior.

"No man has, or at least this one hasn't."

Diana looked again.

"Kal is that you?" Diana looked at the figure before her. The dirty black suit was gone. He stood resplendent in bold primary colours, blue, and red. Behind him a large cloak was fluttering in the sea wind, the fabric stretched with each gust, seeming as if alive, almost like red smoke as it moved.

And he wasn't standing on Themyscira. He spoke the truth, his feet hung suspended just above the sands.

Kal hovered there watching her, his chest bore a symbol, an alien collection of yellow swirls on a red background.

"Who are you truly Kal?" She said brushing her dark hair back from her face as the wind whipped past them.

"In America I am known as Superman."

Diana relaxed her stance. She placed her hands on her hips. Looking up at him she said. "I have heard stories of Superman. The man I saw fall under a swarm of snapping vampire harpies was not more powerful than a locomotive, nor was he faster than a speeding bullet, nor was he able to leap tall buildings in a single bound – why so?"

"I was a bit under the weather." Kal said with a wry smile. "However your Purple Ray worked wonders – Wonder Woman. Thank you."

Diana extended her arms and floated beside him, so her eyes were level with his.

"On behalf of my sisters I say you are welcome Kal, we are Amazon, always glad to help bring peace and health to the sick, but you - as a man - test our hospitality by coming this close to our sacred home."

"I'm sorry." He replied. "But I felt compelled to thank the person responsible."

"I am sure our Chief Physician Althea will be pleased you are grateful for her help – I suggest you return to her on the Island of Healing, and leave our mainland."

He raised his eyebrow. "The Doctor who oversaw my treatment told me that I had her Majesty the Princess of Themyscira to thank; that you not only rescued me from the Wolf Brotherhood, but it was also you who discovered how to apply the Purple Ray to different physiologies.

"That before it only worked on Amazons, and now thanks to you it can be applied to men, even it seems to me."

"I should remind you that it was I who pulled down the ceiling on top of you."

"Which was both effective and amazing." He replied with a smile. "And you did stay to pull me out of there."

"Princess!" Althea collapsed to her knees beside her. "I came as fast as I could." She panted speaking the ancient Greek variant that was common to the Amazons.

"I told him he couldn't come here." She stated angrily. "The gods preserve him if Phillipus gets word of this!"

"It is all right." Diana replied switching briefly to English for Superman's benefit. "In as much that his feet have not touched the ground. Have they Kal?"

"No Princess. They have not."

Althea frowned as much to say she did not think Phillipus would appreciate the difference those a few inches made.

Diana asked the Doctor ."You took him to my laboratory?"

"Yes Princess, I used the equipment you created to treat the American Airman, I have been studying your methods – and dare I say refining them in your absence.

"It was clear from the initial readings that this man was something else, human but not human at the same time."

"What do you mean?" Diana asked.

"I believe he is alien, that is not of this Earth."

"Hera." Wonder Woman whispered, she looked into the Man of Steel's deep blue eyes once more. Alien - and yet so very human. There was a mystery here.

"But the nature of his sickness was more straight forward, I recognised it, being in essence magical, albeit old magic, but so is the Purple Ray. Once I found the correct calibration, the curse was driven from him.

"It was incredible, the very clothes he was wearing responded as if alive, as his condition improved so the fabrics colour changed from black, to what he wears now."

Diana turned to the Man of Steel. In English she said. "You were cursed with old magic."

"I suspected magic." He said. Adding. "Honestly – magic, old or new, isn't something I pretend to understand." Superman confessed.

"How did it happen?" Diana asked.

Superman explained what he had done, and why he had felt it necessary. How he had fought Wotan, and lost.

"Next time I will be better prepared." He said firmly. "Now I understand Wotan to be magical."

"You look troubled." Superman observed.

Wonder Woman frowned, angry that he had read her thoughts in her features. "It isn't any of your business." She drifted upwards and away from him. He followed, his eyes staying fixed on hers."

"I suspect that it is. I suspect my account of the powers and abilities of the Nazi Champion has upset you."

"What do you know of old magic?" Wonder Woman responded. Kicking back she sped skyward leaving behind the Metropolis Marvel or so she thought.

"Damn him and this Wotan." She said through clenched teeth, the man was right, by Athena's wisdom she was sure of it.

The Nazi's sought the Hand of Mars. The Nazi's had raised up a Champion empowered by old magic. This was too greater coincidence, Diana needed space to think about the implications of this.

Yet Superman was not easily dismissed, the Man of Tomorrow was beside her once more.

"I may not know about old magic, but I recognise Wotan and what he represents. This evil is a threat to the peace and security to the entire world." He said to her, as their eyes met again.

"You are clearly vulnerable to powerful magic." Wonder Woman stated. "You would be a fool to take on one possessing the Old Power – again."

"And you are invulnerable?" He asked. "I saw you bleed yesterday. Does that stop you, does it stop brave men and women fighting far better armed, more powerful invaders – are you saying I should give up because I might fail, because I might die trying to succeed?"

Wonder Woman was convinced by his passion, after a moment she said.

"No. That would be wrong, and I admire your bravery – but fools tread where wise warriors dare not go." Diana cautioned. "Bravery must be tempered by wisdom."

Superman held out his hands, and with a earnest expression said above the winds "Your Majesty, I have never met anyone who is anything like me, until that is I met you – you are incredible - together we could achieve much."

"I am not looking for a husband and master." Diana replied coolly – her assumptions founded on Amazon prejudices.

Superman laughed, Diana frowned, but it was a deep and warm sound – an infectious chuckle.

"I'm sorry." He said. "That came out all wrong."

She realised she had misunderstood his intentions. She blushed.

"Seriously - all I meant was that we could team up – after all I know you have come to my country, to America. I read about you – you stopped a bank robbery.

"I have been told that you are your peoples Emissary, that the Amazons wish peace and not war, good and not evil.

"We have the same aims.

"I was thinking that sometimes, not all the time – but as needs must, to achieve more than we could alone, we could work together. Nothing more than that.

"Though of course I hope we can be friends."

He spoke honestly and from the heart. She could see that in his eyes without her Magic Lasso.

Wonder Woman looked at the caped man. "Perhaps you have a point."

Superman extended his hand. "Then your Majesty we have an understanding."

Wonder Woman shook it firmly. "Yes. For the time being – and by the way," she said with a hint of a smile, "please call me Diana."


	51. Chapter 51

Colonel Phillip Darnell toyed with the edge of his moustache. "So Captain Trevor." he began, pushing to one side Steve's written report. "Wonder Woman has agreed to work with us."

Steve nodded an affirmative.

"It appears even an Amazon is not immune to your charms." Darnell observed with a wry smile.

"That is my understanding – I mean at least she intends to prove that the Baroness Paula Von Guntha is a Nazi spy." Trevor shrugged. "Which is a good start.

"But I can't say it was down to me though, I got the strong impression Wonder Woman was more intent on proving the innocence of the Prince dame."

"Hmmm." Darnell mused. "We've had our suspicions about the Baroness for sometime. What about this girl Diana Prince?"

"It is a troubling coincidence."  
"I don't like those." Darnell quipped. "Neither do I like the fact Prince was working in these offices."

"Her family comes from Greece, from where she recently returned." Trevor noted.

"More coincidence." Darnell muttered.

Steve nodded saying. "This Professor Carter Hall – he however seems above board."

"Yes – his interest in certain types of antiquities warranted closer investigation." His Superior confirmed. "However we could find nothing untoward – his activities appeared entirely academic.

"Which is something I cannot say for the Baroness." Darnell added, passing Trevor a manilla file. "It appears our noble lady has decided to take a trip home."

"You think this is connected to the _Hand of Mars_?" Trevor asked as he quickly digested the report. One of the Baroness hired goons had let the term slip during his interrogation.

"Possibly – discovering what this code name refers too, what the Baroness is really up to is a matter of urgency."

"You think this might be linked to the Nazi _Wonder Waffen _program."

"It may even refer to a Weapon of Magical Domination." Darnell stated ominously.

The Colonel stiffened. "Captain Trevor, your orders are as follows, you are to make your way to our Embassy in Berlin, there you'll be attached to the Charge d'Affair Alexander C. Kirk."

Trevor nodded "And find out what I can about the Baroness and her agenda."

"Also the boys over at Alsos are anxious to confirm reports that a certain Superman might have been active in Berlin. They are asking us for a favour, so if you hear anything..." Darnell let the suggestion hang in the air. Trevor nodded.

"Naturally you'll carry full diplomatic privileges, so Steve - don't get caught." The Colonel said finally.

-'S'-

"Dala Danka" The Bat-Man began, he thrust the acrid smelling salts under the still unconscious woman's nose. The young woman's pale skin appeared translucent in the morning light, the blue of her veins seemed all too near the surface. She moaned turning from him, her hand rose to her face as her eyes opened. In the twilight of the dawn the Bat-Man's appearance lost non of his ferocity; but the Dark Knight recognised it was not his fearsome demeanour that cowed her, but rather Dala now squirmed away from the morning sun.

The Bat Plane was parked in a clearing not far from the road where the Bat-Man had squired his quarry, the hunter had good reasons for biding his time, waiting for the right moment to wake the strange but hauntingly beautiful female.

"I am the Bat-Man. Where is the American woman Julie Madison?" He ventured in German.

She crouched foetal like in the back of the Bat Plane's rear cabin, as far away from the coming dawn as she could be in the confined space of the airframe.

"How do you know me?" She asked in a hoarse whisper in heavily accented English.

The Bat-Man knelt on one knee before her. "Your travel papers." He answered. Then he demanded. "What is your connection to the Red Monk?"

"Who?"

"Don't play games with me. The American woman was seen getting into your coach, somehow – somewhere between the coast and where I found you, the _Monk_ – your boss no doubt - took her." He emphasised his observation as a black glove finger flicked the skull and bones broach the pale faced woman wore on her long green cloak.

"You do not know _who_ you are dealing with!"

"Fine." The Bat-Man replied disdainful. "Perhaps you would like to accompany me outside. " He glanced back and out of the cockpit. "It appears the sunrise is spectacular over the mountains this morning."

Dala scowled, and pulling her legs to her chest she tried to bury herself in the aluminium bulkhead behind her back.

"I thought not." The Bat-Man observed. "You see I am aware of exactly _what_ I am dealing with."

Dala looked up at the masked man. She absorbed the determined set of his lips, the strong chin that he revealed through his half mask. His black cloak fell from his shoulders, beneath it the dark grey of costume, marked by the bat emblem on his chest.

"You want to know where the Monk is?" Dala began. "You fear him?" It was more a suggestion than a question. "Well I do too." She said with conviction.

"I fear what he does." The Bat-Man replied, and then more softly he said. "If you are afraid, and if you help me – I will help you."

Dala's dark eyes flashed angrily. Then suddenly she seemed to have a change of heart. "I'll tell you where you may find him if you promise to kill him!"

"I'll be the judge of what is necessary." The Bat-Man answered coolly. "Where is Julie Madison – is she with the Monk?"

"Yes he has her."

"Where does the Monk hide?"

"In the lost Mountains of Cathala by the turbulent river Dess, I shall guide you."

"Very well." Batman replied. Turning he consulted his charts, around a further three hundred miles crossing into Hungary. "When we reach that area, I will rely on you to guide me to the correct location."

Dala nodded, and with that the Bat-Man hit the switch and the aircraft's advanced engine spat quietly into life.

-'S'-

Steve Trevor left Washington by seaplane to Bermuda, bound for neutral Ireland, from there the final leg of his journey to Berlin. Opening his copy of the Metropolis Star Trevor followed the reports of their intrepid girl reporter Lois Lane, including an account of the brutal carpet bombing of Rotterdam which had forced the Dutch Government's surrender to the Nazi forces. Again the Luftwaffe had proved crucial as the German mechanised infantry pushed into France. Blasting a hole through the French defensive fortified lines at Sedan– far earlier in the campaign than the French Command expected, and with the speedy advance of German armour a new form of war took shape, Blitzkrieg. At the forefront of the mechanised war, pushing his tanks ever forward, their guns blazing, intimidating, forcing retreat and surrender of the defending army, the Panzer Commander Rommel, his forces would earn the nickname the Ghost Division, and thousands of prisoners.

-'S'-

Diana Prince was escorted by the Amazon calling herself Mala, through the Temple Complex on the Island of Healing. She thanked the blonde woman profusely. For her it was like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, the nightmare was over, and morning had come; and it was a beautiful day in a very beautiful place – Themyscira.

Mala smiled taking the young woman's hand. "Sister you were under the thrall of a Vampire sect, you were battered and bruised by them – it makes us all happy to see you well again."

"I would thank Wonder Woman." Prince continued excitedly.

"Wonder Woman has left to search for the Hand in the Land of the Wolf." Mala informed the American; whose face fell on the news. "But don't concern yourself about this – this is a matter for our Champion."

"I had hoped she was going back to the States, I could have done with a ride."

Mala smiled. "She will, and when the Princess goes back to America she will take you home. Sister I see the worry in your eyes, Diana asked me to take care of you, she told me you would want to contact your friends in Men's World, so they can know you are safe and well."

"I can do that?"

"We have the means." Mala directed her into a marble chamber. Sparsely decorated it featured a marble table and a number of soft chairs around it. In the middle was a domed box of gilded stone.

"This is a Mental Radio room." The blonde Amazon explained pointing to device fashioned from marble and gold, to the American's eyes it resembled a small Mantle clock. "Your friend Etta Candy has one of these close by, our Princess took it with her to America so she could communicate with us."

"It's like a radio or a telephone?" Prince asked.

"I haven't used a telephone, but I believe so." Mala replied lifting a tiara like object from beside the Mental Radio. "This band receives your thoughts and transmits them via the Mental Radio through the ether to the corresponding device."

Prince hesitated, before she gingerly took it from the Amazon, and cautiously Di placed the golden band around her forehead.

Mala smiled and engaged the Mental Radio for her. "If you are sufficiently talented you can use these devices remotely over some distance." She explained. "But for today simply concentrate on your friend Etta Candy."

Diana Prince concentrated bringing to mind an image of the buxom Texan.

Mala continued saying. "Now imagine your thoughts calling out to her."

Prince blushed, it seemed odd, almost improper, but she tried - concentrated thinking, '_calling Etta, calling Etta, calling Etta,_' for what seemed an age, then came the response.

"_Etta Candy here._"

"_Etta it's Di, Di Prince!"_

"_Di! Is that really you?"_

"_For sure, Wonder Woman rescued me!"_

"_That's amazing!" _Her friend exclaimed – in seconds Di realised she had shared with Etta images of her rescue, the battle in the cellar, the sight of collapsing ceiling, and her journey in the invisible plane, all without words.

"_Where are you?" Etta asked._

"_Paradise Islands." _Was the reply, one that included images of Themyscira's gardens and Grecian Marble buildings.

"_Woo Woo I am sooo jealous." _Etta responded, and with these thoughts came an image into Princes mind of a blonde studious man.

"_Etta has Professor Hall contacted you?"_

"_Yes, many times – he is concerned for you." _Again Etta's emotional impression of Hall was contained in her thoughts. _"You were supposed to write. He thinks something is wrong."_

Di agreed, unsaid was the sense of how wrong it was. _"I think I need you to get a __message to him Etta. I'm worried Nazi agents might come after him, just like they did me – and Wonder Woman; because they thought she was me!_

"_They know the Professor is interested in the Hand of Mars – in those kind of things." _Etta in her minds eye saw the Professor's rooms filled with ancient weapons, books and artefacts – Di's memories of his collection. Then came darkness and fear, images of Di's captivity and mistreatment, first by the Nazi's and then the Brotherhood.

"_Oh Di I can feel you! – how horrible it all must have been."_

"_Yes.."_ Prince touched her brow, she was feeling light headed.

Mala rested her hand on the American's shoulder. "Di you must be careful, the Mental Radio is tiring to use without proper training. Please don't overtax yourself. Say your goodbyes, there is always tomorrow."

Diana Prince nodded._ "Etta I must go, I will back soon I hope, get my message to the Professor, thank you thank you thank you..."_

Then she was gone from Etta's mind. Candy removed her hand from her temple. She felt a little light headed too, even with practise the Mental Radio still tested her, even though she was talented enough to use the device remotely. In this case remotely meant just across her apartment, and into the next room, but even this small distance was something that had surprised and pleased Wonder Woman.

Etta was however glad to go back to familiar technology. Wasting no time she dialled the operator to ask for long distance line, and from her phone book gave the switchboard Professor Carter Hall's number.

She wasn't sure what she was going to tell him, only that she had to speak to him. Emotionally she still carried her friends thoughts and experiences, if a picture could speak a thousand words, this was doubly true for these images that had come via the Amazon's Mental Radio. Made all the more compelling because they were coloured by emotions, by Di's fears and joy. The young woman was determined to warn the Professor that he was in danger.

-'S'-

Panic on the streets of Paris spread like wild fire, as heated rumours of the fall of the Sedan region and the German advance burned through French Society. Lois Lane reflected on the tragedy as she sipped her coffee in the Spring sunshine, at any other time it would be described as the perfect setting, here on the north side of the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, in the city of art and romance. The café was an island of calm, the proprietor nonchalant, resigned casually that come what may wine and bread would be needed. Meanwhile other Parisians felt differently, they poured onto the streets, with hastily packed belongings, their cars piled high with luggage and bundles held precariously to the vehicles roof's with rope. Lines of vehicles, some horse drawn, weaved out of the city and south away from fighting.

Lane wrote these things down in her notebook, as she sketched out her article for the Star, Lois considered her own situation. As an American she had the benefit of her nations neutrality in the unfolding war, but that was cold comfort.

Only minutes away from Lois was the seat of the French President; the Élysée Palace, here a hastily convened meeting was taking place.

Winston Churchill sat before the French Commanders. The smell of his trademark cigar somewhat masked by the acrid smoke of burning papers. The British Prime Minister was sanguine, the French Government was already in retreat – setting fire to it's archives in readiness for the evacuation of the capital.

Addressing his French counterpart he said "Sir, surely we all remember the during the Great War, the Germans broke though our lines always to be stopped before Paris."

Reynard looked hollowed out, his eyes empty. "We have been defeated. We are beaten; we have lost the battle."

Churchill, his eyes taking in the map of the conflict was aware that the British Expeditionary force had been encircled by the German Armies advance in Belgium. Taking his cigar in hand lent forward and looked the Army Commanders in the eye. "General Gamelin?" He began. The old soldier, leader of the French Military was his peer, a year older than the Englishman. "Where is the strategic reserve?" He asked. "The forces that saved Paris in the Great War?" he prompted.

The French General shook his head. "There is none."

Churchill's hand grabbed the arm of his chair. His lip trembled in both rage and shock. Only his stalwart spirit enabled him to recover. "Then how, where and when do you propose to launch a counter attack against the Nazi's?" The Prime Minister gestured to the map. "Surely they are stretched thin, covering so much ground so quickly; perhaps a strike at the Germans flanks?"

Gamelin shrugged. "I regret Sir, we cannot, truthfully there is an inferiority of numbers, an inferiority of equipment, and an inferiority of methods."

The terrifying truth of the French position was exposed.

Later as Churchill left the meeting to return by air to London he remarked to his long suffering bodyguard Detective Inspector Thompson. "Walter, I believe this day has been the most shocking of my life."

-'S'-

Superman was grateful too relax and let Wonder Woman carry him – or more exactly let the incredible invisible airframe carry them both. Moreover he was enjoying the necessary experience – necessary because Diana explained this was the only way to safely fly through the gateway that separated Themyscira from the Patriarchal World of Men.

Superman accepted this at face value. He watched as they crossed the barrier between dimensions, studying the purple lightening filled void, visible through the transparent skin of the invisible plane. The Man of Tomorrow was reminded of the Annunki's ancient device that had created a similar portal, theirs opened a door between different points across the globe; where as Themyscira as Diana explained. "Lies not in the world as you know it, but in a place outside of it, a separate – distinct place, a pocket universe limited to the islands of Paradise. Sacred and secure."

Superman was impressed by both the speed and silence of Wonder Woman's transport. Only the remote whisper of the aircraft's engines and the distant sound of the passing air outside the cabin accompanied them.

Superman's fingers brushed the glassy skin of the Aircraft – magic was something he did not understand – it was alien to him, and he to it. Magic was part of the Earth, his home, and his adopted people. Magic was the essential nature of Diana. Magic made this aeroplane.

So unlike the raw immediacy of his power of flight, exposed to the frigidity of the air, the damp clouds, the howl of the wind, Diana's progress in comparison was civilised refined, befitting a Princess he thought.

"This is an extension of your abilities?" He asked as they left Themyscira.

"It is the gift of Hermes." Diana replied.

"The god Hermes?"

"The same."

Themyscira was a Regency, and Diana was the heir apparent. Superman was reminded how otherworldly this incredibly beautiful woman was. He was not immune to her appeal, her beauty. Here was a Kansas farmboy, and Okie, a hands breadth away from a living breathing Princess. Secretly Clark Kent was awestruck.

"I have met Hepheastus." Superman replied.

"Hera." Wonder Woman whispered, flashing a concerned look at the dark haired man beside her. "He is not to be trusted." She said.

"That is an understatement."

"But his artistry is without equal." She added respectfully.

Superman began telling Diana about the Ultra Humanite, the crippled god. The being he had come to know as Hepheastus. He did so cautiously, his reporters instincts guiding him. He had no desire to offend this woman's unique culture.

If her royal lineage unnerved him, the unparalleled beauty of an Island paradise populated solely by preternaturally beautiful and accomplished female warrior-scholars took his breath away; that among them she was considered especially beautiful spoke volumes – and yet Diana appeared oblivious to her own divine allure.

She responded warmly telling him of how Themyscira had been founded by the cadre of goddesses, Athena, Artemis, Demeter, Hestia, and Aphrodite. She spoke of their enmity with Ares or Mars as the Romans called him, how they and the Amazons were warriors charged with keeping the peace, defeating the spirit of conflict and bloodshed that Ares personified.

Superman for his part explained how he had fought with - and then along side Hephaestus. Diana did not find this surprising or contradictory. He could see the relationship between the Amazons and their gods was a complicated one.

Superman's understanding of religious worship came from Kansas, and the Amazons were not the same, theirs was akin to the religious devotion a warrior of old would have given his liege lord.

Devotion that the Amazons gave to Hera, and the goddesses first and foremost. It was not however blind devotion. It was not the faith of the bible - it was not belief in things unseen, rather the gods were persons - visible players in the Amazon's world, Superman could attest to the reality of Hepheastus, who deserved a certain kind of respect - if only because the crippled god had proven dangerous. The Amazons clearly appreciated this distinction, their respect for the other gods was different, Hermes for example, seemed to be admired, but for Ares the Amazons appeared to hold nothing but contempt.

If Hepheastus was tolerated, an ally – albeit an untrusted one - against Ares, how awful the god of the Battlefield and Bloodshed must be Superman thought.

Their mission was a straightforward one, locate and secure the Hand of Mars, before this magic artefact could be used for evil. Their destination the Monastery Fortress Diana had ruined during their escape, here Wonder Woman believed they could pick up the trail of the mysterious artefact of power.

-'S'-

Gio Zatara shook Carter Hall's hand as the tall blonde archaeologist invited the Special Agent into his home.

"So glad you were able to come over." Carter said leading Zatara to his study. "This is my fiancé Shiera Sanders. Please take a seat"

"Pleased to meet you." Zatara however remained standing.

"Can I offer you a drink Agent Zatara." Shiera asked.

Gio shook his head. "No thank you. If you would excuse us Miss I must speak with the Professor."

"Please, there are no secrets between us, whatever you have to say – you can say it to us both."

"Very well.

"The details of your call to the Agency was passed directly to my office." Gio began.

"Good." Hall commented. "To be honest I hadn't expected such an immediate response.

"We take the threat of fifth columnist agitators seriously." Zatara replied. "Besides you report included several key words – triggers which alerted me specifically." he omitted to say these triggers were of a magical variety.

Carter Hall seemed impressed by the bureau's efficiency.

"Those hey words being.. - if that isn't an inappropriate question?"

Zatara looked around the panelled room, taking in the displayed weapons and artefacts. He paused before the fire place, there on the mantle shelf in pride of place was an ancient dagger.

"Egyptian?" He asked, his finger briefly touching the hilt.

"Yes." Carter Hall replied – a hint of irritation crept into his voice.

Adding after an uncomfortable. "Agent Zatara – what is the purpose of your visit?"

Gio lent on the mantle seemingly lost in thought. Finally he turned around and looked at the Professor. His face stern.

"I am Homo Magi. Descended from a long line of Master Magicians. Among my talents is psychometry."

"I see."

"As did I when I touched this dagger." Gio replied.

"What was that?" Shiera asked crossing her long legs. "What did you see Master Magician – what story did the dagger tell you."

Gio smiled. "I saw a tale of love, blood, and revenge – one that begins in Egypt and crosses the intervening centuries to today.

"I saw the tale of two lovers Prince Khufu, and Chay-Ara, separated by murder, reincarnated and reunited in this room." The Magician looked directly at the two lovers.

"Remarkable." Carter Hall stated.

"As it was accurate Darling." Shiera agreed. "It is a long time since we met a practitioner of the magical arts as bold as you Agent Zatara."

"Time is no longer on our side." Zatara explained. "We – whom fate has given special knowledge, super human abilities can no longer sit back hidden in the shadows. The time has come to be both brave and bold. The Nazi war machine grinds through Europe, and Hitler's agents greedily pursue any science, technical or occult, and any permutation between, in search of Wonder Waffen – Wonder Weapons; Weapons of Magical Domination, to aid them in their war."

"The Hand of Mars." Shiera said, watching Zatara response. "That was one of your key words wasn't it?"

"Yes." The G-Man replied. He folded his arms. "I take it you have knowledge of it's power."

"By reputation – yes." Carter hall replied. He explained how he had helped Diana Prince research the legends regarding the Fist of Ares. How they had lost contact with her, until news had come from her friend Etta Candy.

"And you had no idea that the Nazi's were involved?" Zatara asked.

"No. Not at all, not until Candy's warning that Shiera and I might well be in danger."

"So you thought you'd contact the FBI?"

"It seemed the right thing to do – report fifth columnist activity, to be honest I feared for the Museums collection – these agents are seeking artefacts; and of course, above all the safety of my students." He finished by saying. "What I haven't told the FBI, but I am going to tell you - is that Di was rescued by the Amazon called Wonder Woman, recently making the Washington Papers." Gio nodded. He clearly knew of her."

"I am told it is Wonder Woman who is trying to stop the Hand of Mars falling into the Nazi's hands."

"It is fitting the Amazon Champion should be involved." Doctor Fate stated. His sudden appearance shocked two of three people in the room. The blue suited, yellow cloaked, helmeted Kent Nelson walked out of the shadows.

"I came as soon as I received your message Zatara. " The depth and tone of his voice channelled the power of the mystical helmet of Nabu.

Gio his face apologetic said. "Carter Hall, Shiera Sanders, this is my colleague Doctor Fate."

Shiera looked at the love of many lives, she whispered. "It is the Helm of Nabu!"

Carter nodded. Together they recognised the legendary magical artefact.

The caped man bowed his golden helm glinted in the light. "Hawkman, Hawkgirl. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Carter Hall shook his head and laughed. "Clearly there is no point in maintaining any charade." Turning to Zatara, when did you realise who we were?"

"When I handled the dagger, it all became clear, I saw you both flying, I saw the emblem of the Hawk. Together with the reports of a giant bird, the connected accounts of captured criminals, from this region – everything made sense."

"What now?" Shiera asked

"Fate decrees we recover the Hand of Mars before Hell breaks loose." Doctor Fate replied.

She turned to her fiancé and said. "Carter Darling, you did say we should spread our wings."

-'S'-

The Bat-Man wrapped the timid vampire in his capacious cloak, it's black material was both resilient and reinforced – not unlike parachute silk in function, the ribbing that gave the material the appearance of bat wings when inflated by air, was in fact a by product of the cloaks primary purpose, to give it's human wearer a limited gliding capability.

Now the cloak served simply to hide the fearful Dala from the daylight. He donned a dark leather flying coat in it's place, and secured a large fedora over his mask, it's shadow hiding his identity. The Bat-Man costume did not have the same impact in the bright light of day, and he avoided mixing the two.

Leaving the Bat-Plane covered by camouflage netting, he carried the effectively blind Dala across the wooded landscape to where the Monastery Fortress lay, sited on a rocky outcrop around which the fast flowing river Dess was forced to flow. Here a even faster flowing tributary stream fed into the larger river, creating a whirlpool of churning white water.

Dala was unaccustomed to remaining conscious during the day, and he knew her supernatural abilities were suppressed, the Bat-Man had not begun this journey ill prepared, and he used this fact to advantage. Reaching the Fortress's gates he was surprised to see them broken.

"Dala – the Monastery has been definitely being breached."

He placed her on the ground, and Dala's gloved hand pulled aside the Bat-Man's cape sufficiently for her to briefly see the damage for herself.

"It is as you described from the air." She noted with a tremor of fear, as they entered the courtyard.

Here the full extent of the destruction was clear, at the Monastery's heart a gaping rubble filled hole. Beyond that the doors to the Keep were broken open. The building itself smouldered, there were signs of fire and acts of vandalism all around. The place had been looted.

Angrily the vigilante grabbed hold of the weakened vampire. "You are certain this is where the Monk would have taken Julie?" The Bat-Man demanded.

"Yes!" She gasped falling to her knees. "I can't explain this." She cursed in Hungarian.

"I was hoping you could." Said a woman's voice from within the cloisters, the German accent was unmistakable.

"And I was wondering when you would show yourself." The Bat-Man declared, lapsing into a more pronounced Gotham accent. "I observed your truck concealed beyond the walls."

A tall striking blonde stepped from the shadows.

"It is non other than Baroness Paula Von Gunther, I believe." He added as she came closer.

"How gratifying - I see my reputation precedes me." the Baroness noted. Dressed in a tailored country tweed suit, she seemed ready for a days shooting. However her choice of weapon, a the distinctive Luger automatic was not a sporting gun.

"You are an American, and therefore a long way from home."

"I could say the same of you."

She laughed. "I travel light."

The Baroness smiled. She held her gun loosely, gesturing with the weapon casually.

"You have me at a disadvantage. I presume we have perhaps met, as you say States-side?"

"I saw you." The Bat-Man stated. "You attended a party my.. employer threw."

"Oh." The Baroness said without much interest. "Your _employer_, now who is that?"

"An interested party."

"Come come my good man, I grow tired of this game." She said more harshly, pointing the gun directly at the Bat-Man. "Now who are you and who do you work for."

"Matches Malone." the Bat-Man replied. "And I don't rat out my client. Let's just say he was worried about his nearest and dearest. Sent me out looking for her, and the trail leads here."

"That is unfortunate Mr Malone." The Baroness sighed. "Unfortunate for me because that means you know more about _something_ than you should, and doubly unfortunate for _you,_ because as you see there is little left of the place after the Monks fled.

"My people have searched, and searched again and yet found nothing.

"You see the locals took advantage of the situation. This is very much a torches and wooden stakes kind of place, if you follow my meaning."

The Bat-Man understood the Nazi agent, she was clearly connected to the Monk's plot, and saw him as a threat. He replied his voice cold and measured. "I follow."

"I thought you might." The Baroness said as she pulled the trigger.

The Bat-Man had also read her intentions accurately; her deliberately casual manner had not distracted him, he knew her to be a professional agent. The Bat-Man anticipated - diving to one side before she fired. He avoided the bullet, while bringing his leg around to sweep the gun from her hand in a single fluid motion.

The Baroness stumbled back.

The Bat-Man suddenly felt a strong arm wrapped around his throat. This new assailant begin to throttle him. Unsurprisingly the Baroness was not alone, and her hired muscle had entered the fray.

The Bat-Man hurled the Nazi agent over his head, directly into a third man who ran at him. The two men fell in heap on the ground.

"Just shoot him." Paula snapped in German as she bent to recover her gun.

A fourth man opened fire with an MP 34 sub-machine gun.

Faster than a speeding bullet, the Man of Steel blocked the onslaught, behind him the Bat-Man ensured the third man stayed down, before looking up at the yellow and red crest of the Man of Tomorrow fluttering on the back of his bright cape.

Superman stepped forward, his hand taking hold of the sub-machine gun as it spat it's fire, crushing the barrel between his fingers, he brought the stock of the gun upwards and in lightening fast move knocked the gunman out as the wood contacted the other man's jaw.

"Hope you don't mind us crashing this party, but we were in the area." He quipped.

"You wouldn't hit a woman?" Paula Von Gunther finally asked after a moment of stunned silence. "Would you Superman?"

Wonder Woman knocked her to the floor. "I have no problem with that." She said relieving the spy of her handgun once again.

"Now why are you so far from home?" Diana demanded

"You again!" The Baroness growled.

Superman turned to Bat-Man. He smiled, saying. "So... Matches Malone? - I'm.."

"Superman – Yeah I read the papers." The Bat-Man interrupted.

The Man of Tomorrow held out his hand. "Any enemy of a Nazi agent has to on the side of the angels – even if his methods are unorthodox."

The Bat-Man frowned uncertain what the Metropolis Marvel meant, as Matches Malone he didn't take the other man's offered greeting. "Thanks for stopping those slugs, I'm glad to say I was wrong about you about you - clearly those reports were true." he observed, adding by way of explanation. "That is about you being bullet proof."

Superman shrugged. "Glad to help, - so who exactly are you looking for."

The masked man adjusts the rim of his hat, and considers this unexpected turn of events for a moment, then coming to his private conclusion he states.

"The Red Monks – and an American Woman by the name of Julie Madison."

"I'm guessing you are aware of the Brotherhood of the Red Monks isn't your usual monastic order." Superman stated. "Because judging by the way you have this lady bundled up, you know what she is."

Behind his mask the Batman frowned.

"So we are clear - we are dealing with Vampires." Matches Malone stated. He walked past the Man of Steel, to greet the Amazon.

"Wonder Woman." The Bat-Man said, his voice barely skipping a beat, but she noticed it. "You are something of an unknown quantity, as yet.

"Paula Von Gunther however is another matter." The Bat-Man stated leaning down he pulled the spy to her feet. "Now perhaps you'll explain why the Third Reich's leading American agent is in Hungary?"

"I will not answer your questions."

"But you will answer mine." Wonder Woman told her, as she cast her golden lasso around the Nazi spy.

"What he asked." Diana demanded Paula answer the Bat-Man's question.

"What is this?" The Bat-Man whispered to the Man of Steel.

"It's a magical lasso, that is unbreakable, expandable, and compels anyone bound by it to tell the truth." Superman explained matter of factly.

"Of course." Matches Mallone replied. "Why _didn't_ I know that?" He observed sarcastically.

"I am here to demand the Hand of Mars from the Brotherhood." Paula stated.

Superman turned to his masked companion. "It's.."

"A magical object." The Bat-Man interrupted. "The glory of Tyr. Legends have it Alexander used the Fist of Ares to conquer the world. It acts like a hand of glory."

"Hand of Glory?" Superman asked.

"It is a myth among the criminal fraternity, they are a superstitious bunch by and large; and it was believed that the preserved hand of hanged man with a magic candle thrust between it's fingers could put to sleep any household and open any lock."

Diana nodded. "It is as I told you Superman.

"The glory of Tyr works in a similar way – but it's effect works over a entire territory not just one house, it puts the people to sleep in the sense it robs of a people – a nation of their will to resist." She explained.

"And opening locks?" Superman enquired.

Matches Malone folded his arms. "The Gordian Knot perhaps?"

"Alexander opened that with his sword, cutting the knot in two." Superman noted.

Diana looked away. "Is not losing the will to fight enough?"

"The Fuhrer demands the Hand of Mars." Paula stated.

Wonder Woman addressed the spy once more. "What is your relationship with the Brotherhood?"

The Bat-Man leant closer.

Paula explained. "The Brotherhood has the power to mesmerise individuals. Young women are particularly susceptible to the Great Red Monks hypnotic power, he is able to control them indefinitely and from great distances. The Great Red Monk turned some of them over to me as my slaves, I could direct them to collect information, to influence their partners to divulge secrets.

"I used my society connections to identify young women who were well placed, the girlfriends and wives of the rich and powerful."

Diana prompted the captive. "Like this Julie Madison."

"A Gotham débutante – yes she was on my target list."

Superman looked over at the man who had identified himself as a Gothamite by his accent, and Matches Malone for a name. All this went a long way to explain why this masked man had come to the Monastery.

"Why has the Brotherhood brought this Julie Madison to the Land of the Wolf?" Wonder Woman asked.

The Nazi agent shook her head. "I don't know why he has summoned her." Paula spoke with bitter venom in her voice.

The Amazon turned to the two men. "She is angry, she feels betrayed by the Brotherhood."

"Yes!" Paula spat. "They should have given us the Hand of Mars immediately."

"Why does the Brotherhood want the Hand?" Superman asked.

Diana prompted the Baroness, who shook her head saying. "Discovering their purpose was my mission. I want to know what they are doing myself."

"She knows nothing more." Diana stated.

Superman was a blur of motion, disappearing and reappearing, producing rope. "I found this in their truck, it was parked beyond those trees."

Diana secured the Baroness as Superman bound her subordinates. He placed them together undercover in the cloistered walkway that skirted the inner walls.

The Bat-Man picked up the weakened Dala and placed her in the shadows of the Gate House.

"Perhaps Wonder Woman you should repeat your lie detection trick." He suggested, gesturing to Dala. "I suspect she knows more than she is telling me."

Diana smiled – wisely she guessed the masked man was testing her abilities almost as much as he was seeking answers. Wonder Woman wrapped her gold rope around the captive Vampire.

"We'll see if this one knows the Brotherhoods purpose.

"Why the Hand of Mars?" She asked Dala directly.

Dala screamed, for a moment an inner conflict rages within her, and then the power of the Lasso of Truth won out over the hypnotic thrall of the Brotherhood.

"To open the gate to the Dark World. To return home." Dala gasped finally.

Diana's face hardened. "Is this where the Brotherhood has gone – why they abandoned this place?"

"Undoubtedly."

Superman took hold of her arm. "Wonder Woman, what is it?"

"It's the other talent of Glory Hand – a key that opens any lock, that it, isn't it?" The Bat-Man observed. "The question being what is this Dark World?"

"Hell." Diana said.

"You are joking."

"No." Diana stated. "I am absolutely truthful _Mr Malone_.

The Bat-Man held up his hands. "I don't doubt you. Please explain.

"The Dark World is but one of a number of underworlds. In short there is more than one hell, just as there is more than one realm of existence here on Earth."

"What do mean?" Superman asked.

"You have seen the realm of Themyscira yourself." Diana replied. "Paradise Island is of this world but not _in_ it.

"Themyscira is a paradise, Nekropolis – the Dark World, is a desert; one teems with light and life the other – the flip side, it is darkness and death."

"Wait!" The Bat-Man said betraying his strength of feeling. "Is Dala is saying Julie Madison has been taken to this otherworldly place?" His mind leaping forward to a ominous conclusion.

Wonder Woman prompted the captive Vampire. "Yes." Dala replied. "Almost certainly."

"Then I must find a way to reach her." The Bat-Man declared. His jaw set in grim determination.

Superman turned to Wonder Woman, and asked "Could Hermes travel to Nekropolis?"

The Amazon nodded. "If you are asking me if I am able to cross over, then yes. All I require is the location of the doorway – and a corresponding destination."

"The doorway must be here." The Bat-Man stated. "The name of this Fortress translates as Cemetery's Gate. Why else would the Red Monks make this their base - why else bring the Hand of Mars here?"

"Is he right?" Superman asked.

Wonder Woman turned to Dala. "Is the gateway to Dark World here?"

"It lays in the depths of the turbulent river Dess."

"Of course the whirlpool would form a natural point of magical convergence on a nexus of earth energy." Diana stated. "It's obvious."

"What did she just say." The Bat-Man asked the Man of Steel.

Superman shrugged. "I can repeat it verbatim. If that helps, but I don't understand it myself."

"Eidetic memory?" The man in black asked.

Superman nodded. "Taking notes."

"You could say that. Natural or trained?"

"Natural, although use or lose it applies."

"Trained."

"Admirable."

"Not everyone has your natural advantages." The Batman replied. To Diana he said. "Wonder Woman it would be wise to take Dala with us, she clearly has knowledge and a nature that could be useful."

"I was intending to take her for that reason."  
"How do we proceed."

"I am sorry Mr Malone, recovering the Hand of Mars is my responsibility." Diana said firmly. "I intend on doing this by myself."

"Now hold on..."

"Look you are clever man, well trained, that much is clear to me, but." Diana paused. "You are but a man. Mortal. " She turned to Man of Steel. "And Superman for all your strengths you are vulnerable to magic, and are only recently healed, I do not expect you to risk your life again."

Superman was surprised, and his pride was hurt by Diana's offer, but working with Lois had taught him to respect a determined woman. He responded frankly. "True I had a bad day of two, but there _were_ extenuating circumstances. Remember Wonder Woman I have held my own against Hepheastus, I think I can cope."

"You do do you?" Wonder Woman answered tersely.

"Yes."

She looked at Superman frustrated; this was the Patriarchal World.

"I guess you are used to people taking and obeying orders." He told her. "But like I said we should work together your Majesty. I'm happy for you to take the lead on this one, because you know about magic, _but_ it will be a cold day in hell before I let you go it alone."

Diana frowned. "It _will_ be cold- cold dark and misty." She said.

Superman was at loss to what to say, the Bat-Man however restated his intentions, speaking with conviction.

"Look you are right, I am _just_ a mortal man, but I have studied these creatures, I know their weaknesses, and I'm prepared. I'm willing to bet I'm better prepared than you both." He held up a knapsack of gear, to make his point.

"But basically Wonder Woman I owe it to _Julie Madison_.

"I know you consider this Hand of Mars to be all important, but Julie is _my_ responsibility.

"I believe as an Amazon you understand a debt of honour. So you are going to have to either disable me or take you with you."

"Disabling you would be simpler."

"And which of you is going to watch my prisoner?"

"You realise she will regain her supernatural strength?" Diana countered.

"I captured her at night, I can cope."

"Fine." Diana stated.

Superman looked across a the man in black and winked. The Bat-Man managed a half smile.

"Seeing we're all ready, I'll take Dala." Wonder Woman stated; the Vampire remained held within the loop of the golden lasso, and was snatched up with the Amazon Champion as Diana leapt in the air, seconds later they appeared to vanish.

Superman looked at the Dark Knight apologetically. He offered his arm. "Hold on Malone." he advised the Bat-Man, who grabbed the outstretch limb, moments later Superman and 'Matches Malone' joined Wonder Woman within the body of her invisible plane.

"What is this aircraft?" The Bat-Man asked. "This is technology is unlike anything I have ever seen before."

"It's a combination of magic and Amazon science, as best I can tell Superman replied."

The Bat-Man recovered his cape from Dala. Removing his hat and coat he pulled the cloak around himself.

"Nice of the Bat-Man to finally join us." The Man of Steel said, as the Dark Knight took to his seat.

"You already know who I am?"

"I read the papers too." Superman replied.

"I don't pose for pictures." the Bat-Man growled.

"Okay you don't make headlines in anything but the tabloids, and then it's lurid, but I have seen genuine reports of Gotham's Bat-Man vigilante."

"Those reports – is that what you meant before when you referred to my unorthodox methods?"

Superman nodded. "Yes. But I judge a man on how I find him, not on second hand news."

"Interesting." The Bat-Man whispered.

"Strap yourselves in gentlemen, we're going in." Diana told them, as she pulled back on yoke, the plane soared before Wonder Woman turned the aircraft, sending her into a nose dive, a course that took them hurtling towards white water whirl pool at the cliffs base below the ruined Fortress.

Wonder Woman concentrated her minds eye, fixing her mental compass on the destination that lay beyond the portal.

The incredible gift of Hermes allowed her to open the gateway between worlds, and as the invisible plane crashed into the churning river, water splashed white and brown against the hull.

Bat-Man braced himself as the water engulfed them, it was too late to turn back now.

Then dark black and purple as the aircraft dived into the portal to the other realm. Snapping through the void the invisible plane roared through aperture that formed on the other side, surrounded by random discharges of esoteric energy, for a moment the glassy transparent structure was revealed in the cascading crackling electrical sparks dancing across it's surface, then invisible once more flying upwards from the desert sands into the dark misty skies of Nekropolis, the land of eternal night.

-'S'-

Paula Von Gunther lay on the ground trussed like a hind, her hands and feet tied. She cursed Wonder Woman, this was the second time the Amazon had abandoned her bound and powerless, she hated the shame.

Time past, and the Nazi agent grew frustrated, she kicked out at the unconscious men making contact with the nearest agent, the man let out a groggy groan, turning on the stone floor of the cloistered walk way the Baroness stared into the late afternoon sky. Her thoughts were full of anger and recriminations against America's agents, and fear, Paul feared that the Brotherhood of the Wolf were still close, and with nightfall their children would begin to hunt.

She saw the outline of two great birds against the sky, growing ever closer. Then as the huge wings came ever closer she screamed.

-'S'-


	52. Chapter 52

Nekropolis the city of the dead was like a broken mouth, jagged teeth of broken sand blasted marble on the edge of the Horizon, a misty veil shimmered between them. Wonder Woman willed her esoteric plane ever faster.

Superman yearned to rise from his seat and take flight himself, but discretion was the better part of valour – outside the unknown wastes of the Nekropolis with it's perverse atmosphere lay beyond the transparent shell of the god-given airframe.

Above them the opaque silvery mists refused to yield even to his super vision, a blanket of clouds that ensured the landscape was permanently shrouded in a terrifying evil of eternal twilight.

It was like being immersed in the a black white film, where everything was coloured in shades of grey.

Wonder Woman had no choice but to fly low, her plane tore over the dusty sands, their path limited to this layer of clearer air. At this level Superman could see further ahead, but because of the swirling white mists, still not clearly, magic permeated this realm.

The plane drove on weaving now through islands of rock, some topped by dirt with dead trees skeletal remains still tall, their uppermost limbs piecing the silvery canopy above like fingertips dragging through a mercurial stream.

"The Hand of Mars, or Fist of Ares – whichever you prefer, what should I be looking for, I mean what does it look like."

Wonder Woman nodded, it was an obvious question. "Like a hand." Came the obvious answer. She smiled, as Superman's face creased lines crossed his forehead in a frown. "Like a bronze hand, a gauntlet. It once was attached to a statue of Ares, until the statue was broken and the hand was taken and hidden by the last of his disciples."

"The Vrykolakes." The Bat-Man stated.

"Yes." Diana agreed.

Superman looked across the wild landscape to the ruined city – their destination. "Why didn't the Vrykrolakes open the doorway to the Dark World?"

"Because they remained loyal to Ares, they believed he would return to claim the Hand. The Brotherhood of the Wolf has another agenda."

"Not quite a needle in a haystack. I assume it will be guarded and protected." He concluded.

"That's what I expect." Diana agreed.

"It would seem the desert floor was once a sea." He noted.

Beneath them through the glass like cockpit the bones of a huge baleen whale rose partially exposed by sifting sands, causing Wonder Woman to alter her course briefly.

Diana nodded. "With the water gone so went life, and in it's place only death." She pressed on until the desert opened up once more, the dry bed of the ancient long lost sea, beyond the white city scape of the Nekropolis drew ever closer.

"Dala." Wonder Woman spoke to their prisoner. The Vampire stirred from her dreams – memories of a life once lived before she had succumbed to the Brotherhood's sway, before she had embraced their curse. Diana glimpsed images fleeting through her consciousness of Dala's lost life, drifting to her via Gaia's girdle's metal. "Dala – can you tell us where in the Nekropolis the Hand of Mars will be found?" She asked.

Dala murmured. "Yes." Came the whispered response. "Palace."

"And what of Julie Madison?" The Bat-Man added.

Diana urged the Vampire to respond. "With the others." She gasped.

"Others?" Superman asked. Immediately grappling with the obvious – there were more human prisoner's being held captive in the Nekropolis Realm by the hand of the Brotherhood.

Diana her eyes briefly closed as she continued to guide her plane, then open once more, she nodded. "I have an image of the Nekropolis from Dala's mind – the path she was given throughout the city, I can see where the prisoners are, and where the Hand of Mars was taken."

The Bat-Man stared at the mist shrouded landscape and beyond the clouded outline of the marble Nekropolis proper, distance was hard to measure, and in this alien place any estimate would be little more than guess work, but the buildings ahead grew steadily larger.

"How does this lie detecting – truth disclosing rope work?" The Bat-Man asked.

"It glimpses into the soul." Wonder Woman stated. "The soul looks back at itself, it is a mirror held up to the eyes."

The Bat-Man frowned, his doubts partly hidden by the cowl, but his lips tightened. "I don't know where the soul is Wonder Woman." He replied.

"It can't be found with a scalpel."

"Perhaps – but my research tells me the Vampires as a race believe they don't have souls, it is as best as I can tell the only tenet of faith they do hold."

"Everything has a soul, Bat-Man – even you." Diana stated. "Even this gods forsaken realm.

"Even Dala, although it is buried so deep within the bones of her she has forgotten it. The mirror of Gaia's shining gold however sees it, the fire of Hestia lights up the darkest deepest longest forgotten corners of any living thing."

"I can only say I am impressed by it's effectiveness, the immediacy of the answers – it is speedy; effortless and impressive. As to the real mechanism at work... let me say I understand why you believe what you do."

Diana laughed. "Speedy – effortless!" She shook her head. "No gods-given gift is without its cost. What seems to you quick and easy is for me, and the questioned - an age of time, an all too real dream as their soul is exposed – their thoughts and memories revealed and shared. Appearances are deceptive, I assure you this is tiring both mentally and physically. It is not easy to delve into anyone's heart, especially a creature like Dala, whose soul is all but buried by the beastly nature of what she has become."

"Forgive me Wonder Woman I did not mean to offend you or your beliefs. I am a man of science, and I seek only to understand."

"Sometimes it easier to question than it is to be understanding." She replied.

Superman stayed quiet during this exchange. It was enough for him that Wonder Woman was able to do what she did, enough for now at least, like the Bat-Man he was of course curious about the Amazon's gods-gifts, but as a son of the soil he had learned to embrace the mystery that was life, the miracle of birth – the tragedy of death.

"We are almost here." He stated. "Lets get to it." That was his philosophy, hand to plough, put your back in it, there would be time for reflection when the job was done.

He leant forward in his seat. Wonder Woman pulled on the yoke, and her plane snapped in the air it's nose rising and it's form changing becoming almost fluid around them, as their forward momentum slowed.

The Bat-Man struggled with the evidence of his eyes once more as the shape of the plane transformed in the final moments of their descent, becoming more like a huge bird – an eagle – whose great transparent wings caught and turned the turbulent air as the taloned feet grappled the stone of the compounds paved avenue.

Around him the Bat-Man could see jagged buildings rising from shifting wind blown sands, eroded and ancient, the Classical Style interrupted by something harder and angular, modified into a more aggressive military style, with added towers and battlements.

The plane that was now a mechanical glass eagle lowering itself to the ground, the cockpit strung beneath it's transparent chest, he could see the paving stones partially obscured by wind blown sands beneath his feet through the the glass like cabin. Then the invisible Eagle folded in upon itself like an origami creation. As this began Wonder Woman rose to her feet, he and Superman followed, as did Dala still held in the magical confines of the golden lasso.

Wonder Woman's magical transport enclosed them still – ill defined certainly, but still rendering them invisible.

The Bat-Man noted they had landed close to the centre of the Akropolis complex at the intersection of five wide Avenues, sand had blown and drifted along the buildings that flanked each of these principle roads. There were any number of seemingly lifeless buildings in various states of ruin. Some were self evidently more important and imposing, but which of these temple like fortresses held his beloved? "Wonder Woman where are our objectives?" He asked, recognising his companions were also viewing their surroundings.

Diana translated the images she had seen in Dala's memories, gesturing to her left and right. "The fortress complex is just over here." Wonder Woman pointed to the imposing castle like building just across from where they had landed.

"Dala's thoughts are of humans been held in this tower." To Superman she said. "The Hand of Mars was taken to the Ruling Chambers." Pointing along the long avenue to the far end where an imposing square ended horseshoe shaped structure sat, flanked by tall column's tall enough to puncture the silver clouds.

Superman concentrated his vision on the buildings Wonder Woman had identified peering through the wispy opaque mist.

"I can make out movement in both the fort close by and the palace over there; the bodies in the fort are mainly warm, but in this other building they appear cold."

"You can see body heat?" The Bat-Man asked.

Superman nodded. "Normally the world is pretty transparent to me, the mist here – for some reason, magic I'd guess - is making it more difficult for me, but here at ground level where it is thinnest I can make out the interiors of the buildings.

The Bat-Man shook his head mystified by Superman's less obvious abilities.

Wonder Woman smiled. "You see through things as if they were glass?" She asked – thinking of the Invisible Plane's interior appearance.

"Yes, if I wish - usually." Superman answered hesitatingly.

"That is a great gift." She replied, and then without skipping a beat. "Tactically I would recommend you and I neutralise the greater threat of the Vampires who are together in the main building, while the Bat-Man uses whatever hold he has over Dala to take him to the prisoners."

"That makes sense to me." The Bat-Man replied.

"How will you control her once Wonder Woman releases her from the lasso?" Superman asked. Basically he was concerned for the mere human who had insisted on joining them.

"I have these." Batman replied. Holding glass capsules in his gloved hand. Answering Superman's quizzical glance, he continued. "I weaponised garlic, extracting the active ingredients, combining it with knock out gas for example."

"From your research you learned garlic effects Vampires?" Superman concluded.

The Bat-Man nodded. "Most of the myths have some basis in truth, garlic, like silver is toxic to them, bringing weakness, even immobility."

"But not death."

"No fire is the only sure way of destroying them, and even then with magic and blood they can be brought back."

"The Bat-Man is correct." Wonder Woman agreed. She said to them. "Let us make our move if everyone is ready.

Bat-Man secured his pack hidden under cloak, and then taking hold of Dala, he snapped a vial of garlic essence under her nose. Wonder Woman following his actions then withdrew her lasso.

The Vampire coughed and spluttered as the unmistakable smell of the acrid root filled the air. Wonder Woman reacted by internalising her magical transport and left the four of them standing in the midst of the Nekropolis. White mists swirled around them, alleviating the garlic stench. The Bat-Man shivered, the wind was cold, he noted the Amazon and Superman appeared unaffected.

Dala was weakened by the fumes she had inhaled, and even in the twilight of this unearthly realm her Vampire strength evaporated allowing the Bat-Man to lead her stumbling the shorter distance towards the fortress that contained the human prisoners of the Brotherhood.

Superman and Wonder Woman flew in a heartbeat to the steps of the administrative palace at the ruined cities centre.

There on the steps amidst the shifting sands was a dessicated corpse, it's fangs exposed by the tight mummified leather of it's face.

Superman said. "I have seen many of these dead creatures dotted around and about, in buildings or like this buried in the sand."

Wonder Woman, her head tilted as she listened with her Amazon tuned senses for any sounds coming from the Palace shook her head.

"Not dead Superman, but undead."

"Yes I see the fangs."

"No, you don't understand, the creature if given blood would revive, in time even regaining all the appearance of life that Dala possesses. The same is true for every one of these creatures your super vision sees.

"That is a – lot – of Vampires." He replied.

"Yes." Diana agreed. "That is the danger this Realm poses. If the Brotherhood reanimates these long dead ancient monsters – well things will be bad, these old Vampires are naturally far stronger than Dala."

"I see." Superman said quietly. He found himself counting thousands of ancient corpses in the Nekropolis.

"What do you see inside?" She asked him.

Superman described the layout of the building, with a central courtyard and beyond a main debating chamber a maze of side rooms. "There appears to be a cellar, but I cannot see into that place clearly." He replied.

Wonder Woman detected a hesitancy in his voice. "Is that something you are familiar with."

"It happens." Superman considered what this might mean, but dismissed his first thought, adding. "There are many Vampires throughout the building, several hundred. In the main chamber I can see a throne room."

"The Hand of Mars?" Diana asked.

"I see it – I think. Things are a bit hazy because of the mist, but I see something like you described on an alter next to the throne."

"Hera, never did I think I'd be glad to have a man at my side." Diana laughed – indicating she was ready to act with a gesture of her hand.

"My x-ray-like vision doesn't trouble you?" Superman asked with a wry smile.

"Why should it?" Diana asked innocently.

Superman felt himself blush. He was surprised by her reaction. He expected a woman would feel exposed knowing this. "Let's go and make sure I'm right." He stated.

Superman and Wonder Woman leapt into the air, and down towards the auditorium below.

-'S'-

Hawkman and Hawkgirl accompanied by Doctor Fate settled on the ground within the ruined compound of the Brotherhood of the Wolf, their attention was drawn by the screaming woman, whose initial surprise and fear now gave way to obscenity laden tirade, in German and English, with some other European languages thrown in for added colour.

Doctor Fate approached the Baroness Von Gunther. Straining against the ropes that held her she cursed him.

Fate reaches out and touches her face, casting a spell the Helmet of Nabu searches her thoughts.

"She has received training in the black arts and is resisting me." He told his two winged allies. "However she bears the mark of a gods-gifted weapon, I see Wonder Woman was here." Fate declared.

"American dogs and their bitch." Paula spat. "They are gone from here."

Doctor Fate lifts her from the ground and held the Nazi agent aloft.

"Where have they gone?" Hawkman demanded, in his hands the heavy metal mace swung menacingly.

Paula stared across at the masked couple, their bronze wings glinted red in the setting sun, the feathers like razors. The metal alive like something organic. Their masks were beaked and intimidating.

"Perhaps we should leave them all here over night." Hawkgirl suggested, saying. "Perhaps a night spent within these walls will loosen her tongue? What do you think darling?" She asked, leaning on her spear.

The Baroness laughed. "Leave me to die!" She spat, fear and defiance in her words, she added with hatred. "It does not matter – what, and who, you seek are gone from this world."

Doctor Fate brought her to his face, so that her eyes were level with the dark slits in his golden helm.

"Where?" He commanded – his question seemed to shake the Baroness to the core.

"The Nekropolis." She whispered. "They chase the Red Monks to the Dark World."

Fate let her drop to her feet, where she buckled and fell due to her bonds.

"The Nekropolis." He repeated forcefully to Hawkman and Hawkgirl.

"These monks cannot mean to release the undead!" Hawkgirl gasped. Her partner took her hand, resting his mace on the ground.

"I can think of no other reason, what do you think Doctor Fate." He asked.

"The Helmet of Nabu sees that fate for the world unfolding, and it is dark future indeed.

"I will open the portal, we must prevent this." Fate stated, and raising his hands the Sorcerer began drawing to his hands the power of magic he rose into the air until he hung over the churning waters of the river, and as night fell the darkness was greeted with the supernatural crackle and hiss of magical energy drawing from the river the purple profile of the doorway between realms.

-'S'-

The Bat-Man jammed the special automatic pistol of his own design into the small of Dala's back. "Now lady, listen up I know even in your weakened state the idea of being shot doesn't scare you much, but I want you to know these are silver hollow-cavity bullets – designed for extreme expansion and fragmentation on impact. No danger of these passing clean through you, they are going to spread silver into the meat of you."

"I understand." She said coldly.

"Good now we're clear I want you to take me to where Julie Madison is being held."

"I'm not sure."

"Best guess."

"Okay. Okay." She whimpered. "Damn you - your poisons are bad enough, without the threat of silver burn!"

Dala led the Bat-Man through the gateway of the fortress, there were no guards, unless you counted the mummies – there were plenty of those; guards were meaningless in a city filled only with dead – the apparently dead dessicated corpses of Vampires who long ago had dried up into mummified husks alone in this forsaken realm.

The Bat-Man observed the leathery skinned fallen sentries, he wondered what had happened in this place to make it so.

As they walked through the fortress passage ways the black and white colourless background threatened to merge into one undistinguishable maze, only the Bat-Man's mental discipline meant he kept a record of each twist and turn.

Dala twitched, her nose wrinkled, he coaxed her forward with the barrel of his gun, eventually sounds and smells greeted his senses, the indication of life – and incarceration. The Bat-Man had located the prisoners.

-'S'-

Superman and Wonder Woman crashed through the tiled roof of the palace, and into the auditorium where they hung in the air above the throng of vampires.

Superman quickly examined each figure. In the split second it took he observed their differing appearances, some were little more than mummies, dessicated corpses, except these were not lifeless, instead blood had given them a twitching semblance of life. At the other extreme were the creatures like Dala, pale skinned men and women, some with flushed faces and swollen bellies, who could if they wished, pass for human. Between these extremes was every stage between.

"They are reanimating the Vampire corpse's." He stated his conclusion.

Diana agreed. "I feared that was the plan. It explains the need for human prisoners in the Dark Realm."

"Welcome Amazon Champion!"

The voice echoed across the hall. A woman spoke, her robes were like that of Diana's mother, her language was of ancient Greece. She was seated as a Queen.

Superman frowned, glad once again that he had studied the so called dead languages more closely after discovering the truth behind the Ultra Humanite.

Diana folded her arms. "Lamia. I had thought you were at the heart of this trouble."

The former Queen of Libya laughed. "And I am not surprised that an Amazon is here to greet my children's new dawn.

"Tell me do your people still bow before Hera and her lackeys?"

Diana uncrossed her arms and her hands made fists. "Or perhaps you bow down to this Olympian as your god."

"Who is she talking about?" Superman asked.

"You." Diana replied through gritted teeth.

"I'm no Olympian, I'm certainly not a god. I am Superman. " He fired back at the woman seated on the throne.

"Where is the Hand of Mars?" Diana demanded floating forward.

Lamia shook her head. "It will not be that easy." She laughed. " Are you sure you are not an Olympian?" She asked Superman once more.

"He has the bearing of a demi-god." She sang the words in a haunting melody. "Look at his eyes of blue, tell me Amazon that they do not enchant you?"

"Don't listen to her Kal, she is a blood sucking succubus." Diana growled.

"I'm aware of her reputation in myth." He said drifting past her.

"Kal!" Wonder Woman grabbed his arm. She squeezed hard.

Superman realised he was being drawn by the mesmerising power of Lamia, subconsciously like a moth to a flame, the pain of Diana's grip snapped him back to reality. The pain. She is strong enough to hurt me he realised, and he was glad of her strength. He glanced back and looked into her blue eyes.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Below him the crowds of Vampire children of the Ancient Succubus cried with a common voice, as Lamia roared her children screeched, their sire leading them. Lamia's feminine form metamorphosed becoming bird like; wings burst forth from her back and talons from her hands and feet. She leapt into the space above, driving towards them.

"I have this one!" Diana said, diving to meet the Queen of the undead.

Superman's punch landed squarely on the first of the Vampires who leapt at Diana, the creature rose high above floor of chamber, to claw at them, the Vampire - one of the fresh skinned men fell back hitting one and then another of his fellows. Superman in the subsequent seconds fell upon the rising horde of Vampires grabbing them and using one after the other as weapon against the rest, hurling them into each other even as he kicked and punched the horde away. As he fought he was aware of the monsters strength, he was glad the Purple Ray had healed him, because these Vampires were more powerful than the last mob he had encountered. It was a sobering thought.

Diana threw her lasso. It snapped whip like through the air, but Lamia dived forward in the air avoiding the golden rope. Wonder Woman had her measure, however and with a well aimed simultaneous toss her tiara as the discuss of Apollo, span into the Harpie. Wonder Woman estimated one or the other would find it's target, and so it was the sharp edged Tiara that struck Lamia, slicing deep before spinning back to Diana's hand.

The screeching succubus fell back, but her flesh was knitting together even as her blood fell like rain on her children below. The Vampire Queen turned once again skipping past the golden cord of Diana's Lasso.

Superman hit the ground with force, sending many of the Vampires – especially those whose flesh was still dessicated falling to the stone floor. His street fighting style was failing against the swarm of powerful undead.

He unleashed his heat vision.

Light poured from his eyes as he turned in a sweeping motion, around him the vampire burst into flames, in panic they scattered screaming thrashing to extinguish the flames.

Lamia's attention slipped as she reacted to their cries, ans saw her children scattered, the lasso of Wonder Woman snatched around her taloned foot.

The Vampire Queen screeched aloud in anger, and flew up towards the open sky through the broken roof. Wonder Woman dropped to the ground, anchoring the lasso onto the earth – to Gaia, and she began to haul the Harpie Lamia back to her.

The Vampire Queen screamed once more as she struggled against Wonder Woman, then realising she could not escape the golden god made cord she flung herself back to the ground, striking the floor of the cavern where Wonder Woman stood. The stones shook, and sound reverberated shaking the very foundation of the Palace.

Deep beneath the rock huge tombs shook, and something stirred.

Wonder Woman was sent tumbling as the Vampire Queen caused the very stones of the floor to break and crack, as a wave of shattering rock washed the Amazon back, breaking her concentration as Diana flipped and twisted to find sure footing once more.

In this moment Lamia prised the Lasso's threads from her leg, leaping once more at Wonder Woman.

Silver daggers flashed, but the ancient Lamia was god-seed, the granddaughter of Poseidon, she was the sire of Vampire race, and not undead like her children but an immortal, Diana's daggers did not have the same effect – but they enraged her, fixed her attention on the Amazon.

From above Superman's burning fire lashed the Vampire Queen. Diana broke free as the heat enveloped Lamia.

"Hera." She thought to herself; Kal does not think himself a god but he can bring the fire of the sun from heaven to earth!

Lamia screeched, but she stepped forward from the flames, again she did not share this weakness.

Wonder Woman somersaulted back to Superman. "She is _Chthonic_ – of the underworld. She is not truly undead, she not possessed by a demon, she is a demon made flesh."

"Thanks." He said. "I'll save my fire. Don't want to burn myself out."

Wonder Woman nodded following his implication, that his heat vision required great reserves of energy.

Superman leapt skyward, he voice whispered in her ears. "Duck and cover."

She reacted bringing together her bracelets as Superman borrowed from her play book and he brought the roof down.

Bursting out of the rubble Wonder Woman leapt to the elevated throne, seeking the Hand of Mars.

-'S'-

The Batman rounded the corner and entered a huge chamber recently created from the very rock which the Akropolis occupied, from the structure of the fortress remodelled.

He had never seen anything like this. The square chamber hummed with life, people and a tall rectangular machine, it's surface reminded him of an ornate casting in mercurial metal, it's walls appeared alive with metal vine like tendrils that weaved together to create a solid surface. It glowed with a silvery light, and occasionally incongruous flashes of colour lit it's surface – alien to this black and white world.

In the square compound carved into the rock floor the Bat-Man could see men and women. Around the towering device, these poor weakened people, lay pale and distraught, some were being tended by their fellow prisoners, others seemed past help. The machine was taller than the compound and rose high above them into the roof space of the modified castle.

As he looked upwards he saw movement. A figure in red. Standing on the edge of a dark doorway which now led into space, the floor had been removed to create the space that the tall square metal machine occupied. With a superhuman leap the Red Monk jumped to the stone floor to stand before the Bat-Man laughing.

"Incredible. I meant to lure Gotham's vigilante to the River Dess, but never I thought it possible – that a rash mortal such as you could find his way through the portal to the Nekropolis."

"You are the Red Monk from Paris." The Bat-Man growled. "I recognise your Siberian accent."

"I am the Abbot of my Order." The Red Monk folded his arms, and stood haughtily.

"Yes I targeted the girl Julie Madison in America, and France, your investigation of my activities in Gotham were troublesome – I decided that your own inquisitive reasoning would bring you inextricably to me, saving me the effort of trying to discover who you are."

"Where is Julie?" The Bat-Man demanded.

"Dala come to me." The Red Monk hissed.

"Master." Dala coughed weakly.

"What is this?" The Abbott of the Red Monks asked. "Garlic – I smell it on Dala.

"You mortals are so entertaining, so many surprises!!

"Ah surprises - after all these years, if I had a heart and soul I would be pleased."

"Poison.. silver." Dala gasped, stumbling forward.

The Bat-Man brought his gun to bear. "Where is Julie." He demanded. "Tell me now or feel the fire of my silver bullets!"

The Red Monk gestured to the Arena below. "Why she is with the others."

The Bat-Man peered into the recessed chamber. A scream alerted him, and he gasped as he saw a band of Monks in red walking menacingly towards a figure he recognised as Julie Madison.

The Bat-Man threw his batarang line, and the clawed boomerang grabbed hold of a protrusion from uneven walls of the remodelled building, flinging himself into the abyss he hastily swings to where Julie cowers.

The protruding stone gives way – his line is loosed, and the Bat-Man is forced to twist and fall into the midst of the Monks. Rolling he grunts as hits the unyielding stone floor.

Above him the Red Monk cackled. "So you are thrown into the Arena to die at the rending fangs of my accolytes.

"As you are screaming remember that _your_ Julie will be a Werewolf herself in time! To run with the pack in the moonlit nights – forever my bitch."

His cloak billowing, the momentum of surprise is still his. He readies himself stealthily drawing his gun.

The first Vampire leaps. The Bat-Man fires, the gun barks fast, three bullets hit the monster in the creatures cold chest. It splutters clawing at it's chest, and falls it's evil heart stilled.

Then the pendulum shifts as the Monks howl in rage, they realise the Bat-Man has silver, and they react - their bodies seem to begin twisting - contorting like a troubled sea with their enveloping red habits, they fall to their knees, only for a pack of supernatural wolves to emerge slavering from the fallen robes.

The Bat-Man staggers back to where Julie cowers, the wolves relishing the moment, confident in their own power as only the cruel mind of a man could enjoy.

The Bat-Man covers both Julie and himself with his cloak, peering over the edge at the beasts.

Above the Red Monk's Abbot picks up Dala and leaves the Bat-Man to his fate.

The Bat-Man is outnumbered, but not defeated, his hand reaches to his utility belt and he unleashes a volley of his weaponised gas bombs, both garlic and silver nitrate. Engulfed by the gas the panicked wolves leap. He brings down another with a volley of silver. The other werewolves begin to become crazed. Snapping at the clouds of noxious vapours, their fangs bite into the hides of their fellow monsters. Howling in rage and pain the evil creatures fall upon each other, and then the brief scuffle ends as the Werewolves succumb to the gas.

Stepping coughing through the noxious cloud dragging the distraught woman with him, the Bat-Man looks up for the Red Monk's Abbot, but the Russian priest and Dala are gone.

A hiss from behind him alerts the caped crusader. A door opens in the metal tower, and from the machine. He turns.

"Well." Sang a voice. "What do we have here?"

The Bat-Man gasped. The Annunki bristled it's feather's rising on it's head like a cockatoo's comb.

"Don't let it near you!" Julie screamed. "Spitting Cobra!"

The Bat-Man guessed at her meaning. Her passion for the natural world, and her intelligence had been the first thing that had attracted him to her. He knew the Spitting Cobra was well named.

The tall Reptilian creature spat out a misty cloud of venom, but the Bat-Man forewarned expected it and leaping he dived out the path of the venom, at the same time creating behind him a cloud of smoke.

"Parlour tricks." the Annunki sang. "Your hot body cries to me louder than your woman's screams.

The reptilian staggered as a batarang impacted on the side of it's head. And a double round house kick sent the tall angular creature to the ground.

The Bat-Man smashed his foot down on the fallen creatures skull. It's venom shot out sizzling across the stone floor, as he forced it's fang filed mouth to one side with the heel of his boot.

"Kill it!" A man shouted. The human captives now found their voice, and joined in the chorus. "Kill the monster!"

The Bat-Man saw the creature scrabble with one hand for a gauntlet it wore. "Don't move!" He roared stamping on the arm that moved. The Annunki hissed as the bones snapped.

The Bat-Man held out his gun. "I don't know if silver hurts you, but given I just snapped your arm, I believe a bullet is a bullet for you. Your bones clearly break easily enough." The Bat-Man threatened, thinking; it's bones break too easily, very much like a birds. "I reckon you'll bleed and die like a man, even if you are clearly something else."

"Kill it!" Came the shout again.

"Now." Bat-Man growled. "What are you doing here - what is this machine?"

-'S'-

Wotan crackled into existence above the Cathalan Mountains and drove down to the Monastry Fortress by the Dess.

Alighting to the ground he winced, the pain from his wound still troubling him, and teleporting outside Greater Germany was a test of his power.

"Here!" The cry came from the cloisters that ran around what had been the courtyard of the enclosure, but was now hole, littered with rubble.

The green skinned god floated across to were the Nazi agents lay.

"Baroness I have come to discover for myself what has become of the Hand of Mars." Wotan said to her, as preternatural fire burst from his fingertips consuming the rope that bound the Nazi spy.

Paula cried in relief, she stretched and pulled herself shakily to her feet.

"The Hand of Mars has been taken to Dark Realm – to Nekropolis." She replied rubbing her wrists and wincing.

"American super-agents have followed." Paula said bitterly, as she told the grim faced Sorcerer who had crossed over the Dark Mage's face became all the sterner.

Then he laughed. "Let us see what happens." Wotan said simply with a smile.

The Baroness looked at him both shocked and incredulous.

"If they fall then the Hand will return with Lamia and her children to this world, and the Brotherhood's Queen will have done the Third Reich a great service."

"If the American Heroes triumph?"

"Then they will steal back the hand to this world also – either way the Hand of Mars returns to our realm – here where I am stronger. Where we can acquire it." He said holding forth his hand.

She took it, and he snapped out of existence once more carrying with him the Nazi agent.

-'S'-

Alan Scott was a radio engineer, his work was highly specialised, and very secret. The use of microwave energy to track aircraft was being independently developed in several countries. This technical genius was however only one aspect of Alan Scott.

Beside him was the other – an even greater secret.

The Green Lantern itself, created from an alien metal, with powers he was, as yet, still discovering.

Centuries ago a meteorite had fallen to earth, and from this space rock had been made a lantern. Not understanding the science it had been seen as magic, and a prophesy from those times had been spoken.

_'Three times shall I flame, first to bring death, second to bring life, and third to bring power.'_

Alan Scott had become the third owner of the alien artefact, and with the Green Lantern had come power. Now he stood before the lamp and touched it to his ring, the band was made of the same alien metal, and the power ring took on the energies the metal lamp stored.

Alan Scott shimmered in a green aura, and the young engineer said.

"I shall shed my light over dark evil. For the dark things cannot stand the light, The light of the Green Lantern.

"In brightest day, in blackest night. No evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might, beware my power... Green Lantern's light!"

And moments later the Green Lantern's red and green costume formed around him, donning his darked cape with it's distinctive high collar Scott turned ready to begin his work fighting evil where ever he found it.

Suddenly a figure emerged from the shadows, walking through the wall and into his home. The Spectre's form became solid. "Alan Scott come with me or darknesses great evil will reign across the world."

The Green Lantern illuminated the Spectre in his divining light. The avenging angels intentions were made clear directly to Alan's psyche, revealed by the green living rays.

The Green Lantern swallowed and said. "Honestly I thought I was the only one who walked through walls."

The Spectre looked severe. "Green Lantern we must now walk through time and space."

-'S'-

Wonder Woman landed by Lamia's throne, from the screeches she could tell the Harpie was emerging from the rubble that Superman had thrown down on her.

Diana. reached for the Hand of Mars.

I have it! She thought triumphantly.

Only to lose it. At the last split second, a red robe flashed from the shadows, the vampires inhuman speed grasping hold of the artefact of power, snatching the prize away from her.

"Foolish Woman." The Abbott of the Red Monks spat. "Yield to me!"

The Great Red Monk's eyes burned with hate and power, a hypnotic fire mesmerising. "Pledge your fidelity to me Amazon."

Wonder Woman felt the strength of will slipping from her limbs. She trembled. Here was the incubus to Lamia's succubus. The Red Monk leaders unique power to entrance women.

Behind her the taloned claws of Lamia scraped on the stone of raised stage.

Superman's hot light burned from above.

The Abbott screamed and his robed ignited, twisting and turning in the midst of these flames the vampire monk transformed into a wolf catching the Glory of Tyr in it's huge teeth filled muzzle. The beast leapt carrying the Hand of Mars from out of the smouldering robes, the stench of burnt fur pungent, as the flesh of the Abbott knitted together anew in his transformed self.

Diana's hand grasped her Lasso of Truth, and the Mad Monks spell was broken. Superman's fire had disrupted the Abbot's mesmerising power. From the Magic Lasso the fires of Hestia burned in her soul, and she was free of him.

Just in time for the clawed hand of Lamia to close around her throat.

Superman dived after the wolf that had moments ago been the Great Red Monk. The Abbott's creature sped away, split seconds past, it had speed and grace, but Superman had the advantage of straight line flight.

The Wolf skittered across the stone floor, as Superman settled before the creature.

"Be a good boy now and drop it." Superman said. "Drop!" he insisted. His eyes flashed red with fire.

The Wolf snarled. The Fist in the Red Abbott's mouth opened, it's fingertips sparked with light.

Behind Superman the wall of the Palace collapsed sending stone crashing around him, he span around punching away a massive piece of masonry. The Werewolf took advantage of this and darted away, leaping – springing from side to side - as the earth moved and burst apart, - the wolf bounced across the opening fissures, as the ground split - quaking and breaking explosively. Superman hung above the chaos as something vast emerged from under the ruined city of the undead.

Diana struggled as Lamia lifted her into the air, holding her neck fast in her talons, she used one hand to fend off the clawed feet, the talons deflected from her bracelet, and with the other Wonder Woman released her Lasso. Lamia seeing the golden rope dropped Diana to get away, but Wonder Woman rolled around and cast true. The Lasso of Truth wrapped around the Harpie, binding her wings. Bringing her close.

"Now we shall see if you have a soul." Diana gasped as they tumbled to rubble strewn floor."

Lamia struck first, Diana alighted gracefully beside her.

"I lost my soul when your Queen Hera slaughtered my children!" The Vampire Queen spat.

"Your children were monsters that drained the blood of the living! The gods had no choice but to banish you and your kind to the Nekropolis – otherwise you would have over run the Earth."

"They were still my children!" Lamia cried.

"How many mothers down the ages have cried because of your evil legacy?" Wonder Woman demanded. "See what you have done?"

Lamia shook as she recalled her own loss - the mental crisis that had warped her maternal instinct into a predatory psychosis, and through the millennial haze Lamia began to glimpse another pain beside her own, another mothers anguish.

Then this pain multiplied, the suffering of many mothers who had lost children to the curse of Lamia's Vampiric legacy.

The demi-god Queen gasped a truth. "My children were not the only blood drinkers - do not forget Empusa."

Lamia now wept, her body began to pulsate and she folded in on herself once again taking the form a mortal woman.

Diana aimed a blow at her neck and her weeping ceased as Lamia drifted into unconsciousness.

"Hera." Diana said as her eyes were drawn to where Superman now flew. She recognised the horror that was coming, it was as Lamia had warned - Empusa's children awoke from their centuries of captivity. Around them the palace crumbled into the sands, as from the ground the Empusae rose from their tombs. Strange twisted metal umbilical cords dropped from them bellies, as blood dripped from these wounds, the resurrected blood drinkers towered above broken buildings.

Their faces were of beautiful woman, with hair that floated through the misty air, almost touching the cloudy silvery ceiling of the Dark Realm.

The Empusae had a body that was long and thin, each had been given new metal armour of Annunki design, and where her legs might have been, were her claws, great insect like arms. The long body continued, to where the Annunki's unnatural umbilical had been attached. Then to four long insect legs forming a square stance, which extended beyond the curved abdomen.

Superman recognised the pattern after which the Empusae had been grown, it was that of the preying Mantis. Now three of the beasts stood hissing above the ruins of the Nekropolis.

Supeman processed this new threat as he continued to track the Abbott of the Red Monks in his wolf form watching him bound away, leaping through the turmoil as around him the Empusae – vampiric monsters, rose from their graves, reanimated by blood.

The Man of Tomorrow now realised his first instinct had been right.

He had been unable to see the cellars under this palace for the same reason another secret underground complex had been invisible to him. As impossible as it seemed, the Annunki's strange science had come to this strange realm.

Superman recognised the subterranean technology, guessing that the reptilians living machines had fed the Empusa with blood, bringing these giant creatures back to life.

Concentrating on the disturbance he now pieced together the path of the Annunki's hidden machinery, and it led to the building where Dala had led the Bat-Man in search of the human prisoner's. He drew a terrible logical conclusion.

Superman tensed ready to pursue the Abbott of the Red Monks, to capture the Hand of Mars.

The screaming Empusa nearest him struck with lightening speed - it's arms lashed out at him, in the process of trying to understand what the Annunki had hidden, and following the fleeing the Werewolf, the Man of Tomorrow was distracted. Superman saw the attack too late, twisting avoiding the first claw but the second hit him and he fell tumbling backwards. The creature hissed loudly in triumph.

"I have you Supeman." Doctor Fate said catching the Man of Steel in his hands. Superman turned around and looked into the Golden Helmet of Nabu, and Fate said to him. "Understand."

In that moment the Sorcerer's intentions came pouring through into Superman's mind, he saw Gio Zatara, and the other magicians meeting in a dark alley, he saw other heroes in his minds eye. Then as he regained his own momentum he saw Doctor Fate had not come alone.

"Hawkman and Hawkgirl." He said recognising them from the vision Doctor Fate had shared, as the two winged warriors swooped down towards the Empusae.

Superman charged back into the fray. "You got me with a sucker punch. Once." He growled at his foe "You won't twice." The Man of Steels fist made contact with armoured Empusa, as he darted avoiding it's lightening fast claws.

-'S'-

The Annunki was laughing. The Bat-Man was not. The ground was shaking, masonry fell around them. "Tell me what is happening!" He growled.

"The Empusae are released." The birdlike reptile sang.

"Empusa." Bat-Man mentally checked his research. "Another Vampire Monster."

"There is nothing the surface dwellers can do." It cooed. "The creatures from Nekropolis will pour through the portal into your world. Darkness will reign, and we will walk the earth once more!"

Bat-Man smacked the creature with the butt of his gun. It collapsed under him. It's tongue lolling out of it's mouth, as it panted shallowly.

Around him the people approached cautiously. One aimed a kick at the fallen reptilian.

"Bat-Man we have work to do."

The caped crusader turned around, beside him towered a grey figure over gigantic size wearing dark green hooded cape.

"The Spectre." He said slowly. "Frankly I found the tales of Superman leaping tall buildings in a single bound hard to swallow. I really thought a vengeful angel was certainly a myth."

"I am a Myth." came the reply as the cloak billowed around him, and from the darkness emerged two other men.

One wore a dark cape and a domino mask, in that way he resembled the Bat-Man, but his shirt was red, and his trousers green.

The other man chuckled as he emerged from the blackness of the Spectres huge enveloping green cloak. He again wore red – a tight fitting sports jersey, and blue running pants, and a metal helmet decorated with tiny wings.

"The Flash and the Green Lantern." The Bat-Man observed, he shrugged. "It seems I am forced to accept the incredible once more."

"That's some trick Spectre." The Flash commented. He moved, from person to person, skipping past the fallen werewolves, and back again in a heartbeat. "You guys weren't kidding." His face became more severe. "There is something really bad going on here."

"Certainly." The Green Lantern agreed. Adding, "What is that thing." he asked pointing at the fallen creature by the Bat-Man.

"That is a subterranean species of sentient reptilian, called the Annuki." The Spectre replied. "And this machine is this creatures creation for the Brotherhood of the Wolf. He grew it here."

"Grew it?" Alan Scott said ever the engineer. "Let me look into that." The Green Lantern stated, and with his power ring he concentrated his will, the rings alien metal translated his thoughts through energy into action.

The divining light washed over the towering structure.

"It is alive." The Green Lantern observed. "This is unlike anything I have seen." he gasped. Immersing himself in the green aura of power Scott entered the fourth dimension and the Green Lantern passed through the walls of the Annunki towering machine.

The pool of green that washed from the ring, illuminated the secrets of the Annunki's technology by analysing the strange living machine.

The Green Lantern descended into the sunken device, and as he entered the hidden root of the machine the full horror of its purpose was revealed. Within it were men and women, hundreds of them, tier upon tier, on angled gurneys - hooked up to the machine, their life blood draining into pipes to be carried away.

The Green Lantern anger at this evil was made tangible, as his force of will was directed through the alien power ring, erupting in a burst of green light slicing through the metal shell opening it up, he formed from energy green glowing jaws which expanded outwards ripping apart the tower, which snapped apart revealing the horror within.

Bathed in the power rings aura he returned flying upwards to where the others stood."The Annunki device keeps them alive, replenishing their lost fluids until they are strong enough to be drained once more." The Green Lantern stated.

"Of course - the blood is being used by the Brotherhood to resurrect the ancient Vampires that long ago dessicated into mummies." Bat-Man concluded.

"Exactly so Dark Detective." The Spectre agreed.

"The legends are clear; the older the Vampire is - the stronger it is; the faster it regenerates, the more able it is to withstand daylight." Bat-Man stated, slotting together the Brotherhoods agenda.

"How do we destroy this network?" Batman asked.

"Let the Green Lantern take you into the depths of the machine and their place your explosives." The Spectre said.

Bat-Man agreed, the Spectre truly had supernatural knowledge, at least he could divine what the Bat-Man carried in his pack. The Dark Knight had gathered only rumour about this avenging angel, but Bat-Man had determined the Spectre choices were not always truly his own, and the Spectre believed they came from a higher power. A concept that did not sit well with Bat-Man's scientific mind set; but given what he had seen today, he was more than able to believe at least in this visible angel.

The Green Lanterns light allowed him to carry the Bat-Man down into the bowels of the device,and there the Dark Knight placed his explosive charges.

The Spectre gestured to the Flash.

"With your speed you can unhook the living from the deadly machine, and carry them to safety beyond. I shall disable the mechanism that draws their blood." The ghostly figure shrunk to human proportions and sank into the rock. The Flash dashed inside the machine following the Spectre's lead, began the mammoth task of rescuing the hundreds of captives within.

-'S'-

Superman's repeated punches connected, and the armour of the huge Empusae cracked under his assault.

Across from him Hawkman and Hawkgirl sailed on metal wings, Hawkman's mace contacted with the heavily armoured trunk of the beast, while Hawkgirl's wings slashed at the legs of the Empusa, causing it to lose the stable platform the creature used as a basis for the powerful killer strikes of his double handed hammer blows delivered by the great offensive claws.

Dr Fate unleashed a barrage of magical fire, at the third Empusae while Wonder Woman Lasso's unbreakable rope followed the Amazon as she weaved through the creatures legs, coming to a halt she yanked the lasso and the monster tumbled to the ground. With Fate's firey magical blasts blinding the Empusae, she struck a double fisted hammer blow to the feminine face of the Monster. Stunned the creature collapsed, defeated.

Superman did not need showing twice, he aimed a punch for the Empusae's head. The monster struck out trying to deflect him, but Superman's roundhouse blow took the creature down. Just as Hawkman's mace found the Vampiric monsters weakness. Hawkgirl feinted an attack allowing her love to strike hard and fast and the third monster fell.

Superman free at last, cast his eyes across the city in the vain search for the werewolf carrying the Hand of Mars. The attack of the Empusae had enabled the Abbott of the Red Monks to escape.

-'S'-

In the offices of the newly appointed SS-Führungshauptamt – the headquarters of the SS in Berlin, Walther Wüst, President of the Research Institute of the Ahnenerbe SS, entered his conference room directly from his private office. Resplendent with expensive furnishings, and artefacts from around the world; among them a Roman Eagle, and Plato's Map of Atlantis, but it was dominated by the ancient symbols the Third Reich had appropriated. The SS Colonel adjusted his jacket as he sat down before the blood red Nazi flag – in it's centre the most recognisable of these, the swastika lifted from eastern mysticism.

Across from him in also wearing the black SS uniform of equal rank was Karl Willigut, and seated on the opposite side of the table was a civilian - Lex Luthor. The young American defector appeared at ease, although he watched the older Wiligut closely. The man's grey pallor suggested the older man was unwell, an impression belayed by his brusque manner.

"Gentlemen, I must thank you both for coming here at such short notice" Wüst began. " As you know the Reichsführer Himmler has asked me to convene this meeting." Adding warmly. "I am aware how busy you both are."

"We have been waiting for some time." Luthor observed.

"With good reason." Wüst pressed a concealed buzzer switch fixed under the head of the table where he sat. The doors of the conference room opened.

"May I introduce Baroness Paula Von Gunther, just returned from Washington, via a very recent visit to the Balkans." Wüst stated.

The Baroness entered, prompting Luthor to rise from his seat. She smiled at him, he noted the bruises around her wrists, signs of restraint.

Von Gunther joined the men at their table.

"Herr Willigut." She nodded to the older man. "We have corresponded."

"Indeed we have." He agreed. "Do you bring me news of the Hand of Mars?"

"The artefact did _not_ come to America." The Baroness stated. "All the evidence from our surviving operatives pointed to the Brotherhood of the Wolf, on that basis I visited their headquarters. It is a fact I can now confirm."

Wüst hit the table with his fist. "That is unfortunate. They have until now given us reason to believe they supported the cause. To learn otherwise is disappointing."

"Wotan must have the Hand of Mars." Willigut exclaimed.

Luthor folded his arms, his disdainful face betrayed him.

"You have something to say Herr Doctor?" Willigut asked.

"As fascinating as the occult sciences are, they do not represent the future."

"And your project does?" Willigut asked pointedly.

"Your work has it's value, but ultimately a limited role."

"Value!" Willigut growled. "Wotan defeated the American Superman – which was more than you ever achieved."

"I have not yet begun." Luthor countered.

"Gentlemen." The Baroness intervened. "Superman _may_ have been defeated, but he has recovered. I have seen him."

"Impossible!" Willigut flustered.

Luthor smiled. "There is a resilience to Superman. Something I have already noted."

"Another Meta-Human serves the Americans." The Baroness stated. "One I have had the unpleasant experience of meeting – twice – now. They call this heroine Wonder Woman in their popular press. It appears both these Americans and another man also seeks the Hand of Mars."

"Yet more competition." Willigut sighed, cursing under his breath. His eyes flashed at Luthor.

Luthor waved his hand dismissively. "I am certain the Ultra Humanite is no longer with us." Correctly guessing the Nazi Occultists meaning.

Luthor lent forward his fingertips pressed together. "All this news demonstrates is the need to create an _army_ of supermen – as powerful as _one_ individual may be – may become – it is numbers that secure and hold territory." Luthor stated.

"Your Ubermesch - when will happen when exactly." Willigut asked.

Luthor scowled. "I am making unparalleled progress in this field."

"Friends." Wüst now intoned. "Let us not lose sight of the greater purpose, we must combine and double our efforts, others seek this one artefact, this and other

objects of power; the American's, the British, the Russians, the Japanese – private individuals and governments, all wanting the same thing.

"Together we must work to ensure it is the Third Reich triumphs over all."

-'S'-

Superman landed on the rubble of what had been the palace. Diana joined him laughing she gripped his forearm forcefully and slapped him hard on the other arm, he took hold of her arm likewise, remembering this ancient warriors greeting.

"What a victory Kal." She smiled.

He frowned. "But the Hand of Mars was taken by a vampire -werewolf." He shook his head and laughed. This made Wonder Woman frown.

"The battle is won, but not the war." Diana said coolly. "I find that a sobering thought."

"It is Diana,..." She interrupted him, gripping his arm tighter to make her point. "I am born under a hunters moon – I will hunt the wolf and the Hand of Mars. I promise you." She said with passion.

"I believe you." Superman said looking into her fiery eyes. "Wonder Woman don't misunderstand me, I was amused by myself – not our situation.

"Seriously - if anyone had told me a few weeks ago that I'd be saying '_the Hand of Mars was taken by a vampire -werewolf_' I would have thought they were mad."

Diana nodded. "Granted we are very different, there is much about _your_ world that baffles and amuses me!"

Wonder Woman realised she still held the iron hard arm of the Man of Steel. Was his heart still beating fast because of the fight she wondered.

Beyond them the Nekropolis shook again as the building housing the Annunki's machine collapsed. The Bat-Man's explosives detonated, triggering secondary explosions, that ripped the machine apart. Clouds of smoke and fire rose into the silvery sky.

Across to them floated the Green Lantern. He had willed into existence a great green life boat, in it were the desperate, but happy people the Flash had individually released and carried to safety; there were the other former captives too, including Julie Madison, and with her the Bat-Man. The Caped Crusader had secured the Annunki scientist in handcuffs, carrying the still unconscious creature in a robe of the Red Monks.

"Superman!" The Flash appeared. He began pumping the Man of Steel's arm holding his hand shaking it ferociously- at great speed. "I've heard a lot about you."

"And I you. May I introduce Wonder Woman."

"Wow, they weren't kidding about you either." The Flash looked up at the Amazon, and back again.

Diana smiled graciously.

"That's some swim suit." The Flash said pushing back his hat.

The Bat-Man leaving Julie Madison's side leapt from the bow of the Green lanterns Life boat and walked over to Diana.

The Flash was telling Superman about his last visit to Metropolis.

"The Brotherhood planned an invasion of Old Vampires." The Bat-Man stated. "Fed on the blood of these poor people the Flash rescued." The Dark Knight looked across to where the palace had been. "I see you managed to take down the Empusae?" The Detective concluded, his eyes resting on the incredible mantis like creatures.

Diana nodded. "It proved challenging. Beside these monsters there is a horde of the Vampires hiding beyond these ruins, I wager they fear Superman's fire."

"Fire?"

"From his gaze." Diana replied.

"So that one is true too." The Bat-Man whistled. He shook his head. "Okay Wonder Woman how do we stop these monsters invading our world. He pointed back over his shoulder with his thumb at the fallen Empusae. "If my research is correct, and it has been until now, those creatures are going to regenerate. Even if we reduce them and the all other vampires for that matter, to ash, there is no guarantee they won't be resurrected."

Wonder Woman agreed. "They are undead, with blood and magic they can be brought back."

"Then how are we going to make sure the realm of the Earth is safe from an invasion of these things?" The Flash asked suddenly at their side once more. "I'm assuming they will create more vampires when they enter our world?"

"That is the threat. Men's World would fall under the curse of Lamia." Wonder Woman stated. "That is why the gods created this realm to imprison Lamia and her offspring."

"Wait." Bat-Man stated. "Wasn't Zeus the father of Lamia's children?"

Diana nodded. "Yes he was."

Superman frowned. He had read the Greek Myths. "That strikes me as irresponsible."

"It was more complicated than that." Diana began to explain.

"More complicated than your myths.

"The gods power waned; Zeus tried to create mighty men, heroes of renown, to compensate. The gods sired many heroes who were good and true, but they were _demi-gods_, with human faults and failings; some were deeply flawed like Herakles." Diana glanced at her bracelets – the symbol of her peoples enslavement by Zeus' son. "But he sent many terrifying monsters to Tartarus."

Superman nodded. "What you are saying is that the gods were trying to do their best to help, that the fact Lamia's children became monsters is not the fault of the gods, any more than Hitler's parents are to blame for his war."

"Still doesn't solve the problem." The Bat Man said surlily. "How do we bolt the door behind us when we leave?"

Superman recalled Diana's explanation of how the portals between realms functioned.

"Wonder Woman you said that whirlpool in the river Dess forms _a natural point of magical convergence on a nexus of earth energy_.

"Could we block that convergence – physically interrupt it - close the portal between realms?"

The Bat-Man folded his arms. "Hmm. Raise a barricade, block the door – is that possible?"

Doctor Fate considered this. "It was the Ancients habit to site their temples on such places, in an attempt to harness the magical energies."

Hawkman too nodded sifting through his memories of many past lives. "It was among the hidden mysteries guarded by the priestly class of Egypt."

Fate nodded. "And it is to Egypt we must look for inspiration."

Superman looked puzzled. "What do mean Doctor?"

"Are you familiar with the Washington Monument?"

"Of course."

"It was the Ancients tradition to raise a monument as a witness – a marker if you will, a standard of ownership."

"Like a flag." The Bat-Man suggested.

Hawkgirl spoke. "More than that, such a monolith as these, pierces the ground like a needle, it is a magical staff – a wand – which controls energy if correctly placed."

The Hawkman remembered something else, adding. "However such installations were usually cemented in a blood sacrifice. That is my memory of them. Blood and fire."

"Very Old Testament." The Bat-Man stated.

Superman folded his arms. "Doctor Fate I hope you are not suggesting we shed blood to seal this portal.

"Because I was rather hoping I could drop a mountain on it."

Fate shook his head. "Unfortunately the portal is not a door way that can be closed with a simple physical barrier."

The Spectre spoke. "We have in our possession the means to both create and seal an Obelisk; the means to make a barrier to the Red Monks." He pointed to the Bat-Man.

"The Dectective has holy water."

"Holy water?" Said the Flash. "How will that work."

The Spectre explained saying. "Rasputin is a believer."

"Who?" He asked.

"Gigori Rasputin – the Russian Mystic who reportedly escaped death." The Bat-Man stated. "I suspected it was him, and it appears I was right."

"So that is the Mad Monks identity." Superman exclaimed.

"Surely he has rejected the Christian faith?" The Bat-Man asked.

The Spectre in his deep ominous tones explained further. "In rejecting his religion and embracing his current state the Mad Monk has not stopped believing, only changed sides.

"Holy objects weaken a Vampire because of the power of faith; that of human who wields them against the creature, or because of the creatures own beliefs carried over from when it lived."

The Bat-Man shrugged, and reached into his pack. "Here you are." He said passing a silver flask to the Spectre. "I'm sorry it's not full, but I was thirsty earlier.

"It is not the quantity but the quality."

"I am not a man of faith." The Bat-Man stated.

"And I am the angel of vengeance." The Spectre replied taking the Holy Water. "I have more than enough faith."

"How then do we do this?" Superman asked. "Do we recycle marble from the Nekropolis?"

Doctor Fate beckoned to the group, he knelt down and began to draw in the sand. Saying "With cleansing fire, with team work, and with blessed water. We will do it this way."

Superman now understood his part.

The heroes returned to where the portal lay in the dry seas beyond the city, here the Man of tomorrow rose above the desert, and unleashed an burst of heat vision, the suns fire ripped into the sands and the particles melted becoming glass in the heat of his gaze.

The Green Lantern's energies shaped the molten glass moulding it into a great needle shaped Obelisk. While the Spectre's ghostly form placed the Bat-Man's sealed silver flask within the tip of the molten glass needle.

Superman breathed in and exhaled, the still hot glass hardened, completing the glass monument and marker.

The Obelisk rose propelled by the Green Lanterns light in the shape of glowing A frame.

Doctor Fate cast his spell, mystical energy burst from his fingertips and utilising the Old Magic of the Golden Helmet of Nabu he opened the Portal between realms. The swirling turbulent purple dark shape appeared in the ground. The Green Lantern's light tipped the sharpened point to the magical confluence.

Superman hovered beside the Obelisk and he took hold of the needle as Wonder Woman joined him taking the other side. Together they inserted the needle into the body of the earth - their strength united with Fate's magic. Diana's peculiar gift allowed her to place the point as accurately as she piloted her plane across the void between realms.

Lightening burst from ground to the silvery sky, and the very fabric of the Nekropolis realm shuddered and groaned.

"It is done!" Diana shouted.

"I shall keep the Portal open." Doctor Fate announced.

Superman looked across the desert at the assembled hero's.

"It looks like we can go home." he said alighting to the ground.

The Green Lantern gathered the living, generating a life boat once more from the glowing green light. The Spectre rose above them collecting everyone within his suddenly massive cloak, and stepping into the portal the giant avenging angel returned them all to the earthly realm, bursting into the sunlight above the river Dess. Leaving the Nekropolis dry and broken. Lonely as it was for the millennia before the Brotherhood's arrival. Leaving behind the great glass Obelisk, a holy barrier against the Red Monks return- a stake driven into the land of the undead.


	53. Chapter 53

The the giant ghostly figure of the Spectre emerged from the whirlpool steeping onto the banks of the River Dess, the grey giant was almost invisible against the blue sky, and his cloak merged into verdant greens of the valley. Above the river towered the now abandoned fortress. From the folds of his dark cloak the conquering heroes emerged victorious over the undead world of the Nekropolis. The sunlight, the colour, and fragrance of life, of grass, flowers rising from the meadowland was a welcome confirmation that the bone dry black and white other world was behind them.

Diana gladly breathed in the fresh warm air, as with them the lost souls once held captive by the Red Monks now rejoiced with tears of joy, and happy laughter their return to the land of the living. Yet something troubled her.

"Kal?" She said. Her friend turned to her, his face troubled, Superman's eidetic memory testified to the same signs she saw around her, the coming of summer following spring. He remembered the trees less green, the meadows with fewer flowers in bloom. "It is later than it should be." She told him.

The Man of Tomorrow nodded. "It seems so."

Doctor Fate confirmed their suspicions. "I believe when we sealed the portal doorway between worlds – that his act altered the nature of the pathway that exists between the living world and the Nekropolis, time began to move more slowly for us relative to the wider Earth."

"What date is it then?" The Bat-Man asked.

Fate instructed by the Helm of Nabu. "It is now June."

"Almost two weeks." The human hero noted. "If you would excuse me - I must send a message to my people." With that the Bat-Man hurried across the field to where his unusual Plane was concealed.

The other human prisoners had been for the most part local to the area, and those snatched from near by wasted no time, gladly taking their leave of the meadow making for the road and home. Others were too traumatised, weak from blood loss or injury, and required help; the assembled heroes provided it.

The handful of foreigners, including Julie Madison remained with the Green Lantern who confided in Superman upon his return. "I must return home soon, my power ring must be recharged at regular intervals."

The Man of Tomorrow nodded. "I see." He did not understand how the strange ring functioned, however he felt despite the magical way in which the ring appeared to work, it could perhaps be an advanced form of technology.

It was then Wonder Woman saw among the wounded the reptilian Annunki. The tall creature crouched hidden in the robes of a Red Monk, huddled in the shadow a large tree loathing every moment of daylight.

Diana had been doing her part checking over the people the Green Lantern had rescued, when she had come across the creature which had been secured by the Bat-Man. Suffering from their fight the reptilian had been received basic first aid. Now it sort shadow, and tried to avoid the humans who it had abused.

It hissed as Diana cast back the hood of the robe in which it hit, shielding it's eyes against the sky.

"Hera, what is this!" She called out.

"An Annunki." The Flash told her. Instantly at her side, the fastest feet alive explained. "I think that's what they call themselves. This creature was assisting the Red Monks,.. y'know to get more blood from people without killing them."

Superman joined them. He saw Diana's stern face "Wonder Woman why are you so angry?"

"These creatures – these are Typhon!"

"I'm sure the Spectre called them Annunki." The Flash said.

The Reptilian hissed at the mention of its race.

"That maybe, but to my people we know them as Typhon, the monster Zeus threw down and banished to the Underworld. They are not supposed to leave their caves!" Diana stated.

The Annunki snarled. "The gods have forsaken Earth for Olympus, our time is returning, maybe Typhon will rise again." It spat.

Superman frowned. "It does not surprise me that these creatures are known to the Amazons."

The commotion brought the heroes together once more, even the ever silent Spectre.

"I have long thought the Annunki legends and the tale of the Typhon to be linked." Hawkman observed.

"Agreed Darling." Hawkgirl said. "But what are we to do with this prisoner?"

"I would suggest turning the creature over to Zatana." Fate said. Adding for clarity. "And the FBI."

Superman nodded.

"The Annunki is at least guilty in regard to Julie Madison's kidnap and worse." The Green Lantern observed.

"Justice must be served." Diana said resolutely.

Superman turned to include the other heroes and said. "I have already come to an agreement of sorts with Wonder Woman, and I feel we have together won an important victory, one which will perhaps never be reported or even understood – but important non the less.

I believe we should build on this alliance. Band together when necessary - to do more together than we could achieve alone."

"Certainly." Doctor Fate agreed.

Hawkman and Hawkgirl also added their agreement.

"We kicked ass." The Flash agreed.

As they talked the Bat-Man returned from making his calls by radio. "I shall escort Miss Madison back to Gotham." He said.

"We were discussing coming to an agreement to from a society." Superman informed the human vigilante.

"Each of us brings unique abilities, and experience. Each of us stands for truth and justice, for liberty and freedom, the values of democracy, we should club together in these evil times to do good."

"A society - a club?" The Bat-Man interrupted. "Like the what exactly? The Boy Scouts?"

This comment was dry, but funny, at least the Flash and the Green Lantern found it so.

Hawk Man could not resist a smile.

Wonder Woman looked confused. "What are the Boy Scouts?" She asked, new to Patriarch's World she had not come across them.

"There Motto is 'Be Prepared' – I believe." Hawkgirl told her. "They promise to do good, help others, and keep themselves healthy."

Superman looked at the Bat-Man. "I think you exemplify – at least, the Boy Scouts Motto – 'be prepared' better than any of us."

The Bat-Man folded his arms. "I work alone. My work is in Gotham, I came to this place on Gotham business, only because the Red Monk's Abott came to _my_ city."

"I was only suggesting we meet to discuss the idea." Superman replied. "The Green Lantern must return home also, and I can not linger here either." The Man of Steel noted. "I've responsibilities too, things I've neglected pursuing the Red Monks. I imagine each one of us has our own lives to lead."

"I suggest we arrange to meet at a mutually convenient time and place." Hawkman volunteered. "Doctor Fate I am sure would be able to communicate the details to each of us."

"I shall attend." The Spectre said. His voice echoed across the meadowland, and it was the first time the green cowled angel of vengeance had spoken since they had returned from the Nekropolis. There was a brief pause; the Spectre's ghostly presence had a sobering effect; then each hero agreed with him, except the Bat-Man, who silently turned away from the group leading Julie Madison back to his Plane.

"Perhaps he will reconsider his role when he rested and slept." Superman suggested to Diana.

"We shall see, she agreed, but he is a proud man – with a singular purpose." She replied.

-'S'-

Lois Lane contemplated her decision. She had left Paris following the retreating French forces, and their British allies. Lois had no doubt the headlines across the world would read Paris falls. The defeat of France now seemed inevitable and yet her instincts told her the story lay with the Allies increasingly chaotic withdrawal.

Soldiers were being left to their own devices, making the best way they could to coast. As an act of kindness and solidarity French villagers left pales of water to alleviate the soldiers thirst where they could along the roads west, the Germans in turn toppling these where ever they saw them. All the time the retreating men were harassed by the lethal Luftwaffe.

Lois wrote these things down as she joined the exodus to the coast, leaving behind Paris, a self declared open city.

Perhaps it was her own history that tipped the balance in her mind.

Lois was a military brat and she felt at home with the troops, and instinctively she set herself against the invaders, although German and Nazi were not synonymous in actuality, for the course of the war, for the purpose of fighting and winning her side could not make that distinction.

America remained neutral, but many American's did not. Lois Lane was one of those.

She wondered in the dark of night following the road to the coast, where Clark Kent was, and indeed if he still lived.

Reaching the coast at the beaches of Dunkirk Lane recorded the sights and the sounds of the desperate troops, forced to abandon equipment and ammunition as they fled. She wrote how the soft sands of the beaches saved lives absorbing some of the destructive force of exploding German bombs.

How thousands of men began making their way aboard the flotilla of ships both large and small.

There was no where to hide from the corpses that littered the beaches, and floated in the water. Fighters, dive bombers, E-boats, all attacked the rescue fleet, travelling to and from the French Coast. Lois Lane woman at war found herself escorted by a handsome British officer, his face marred by a bloody cut, his uniform dirty and torn, carried into one on the small boats ferrying the wounded to the larger Destroyers in Dunkirk harbour.

By morning she was in Dover, and by June 4th 1940, the evacuation was over, France was lost, and the Daily Star carried her account in Metropolis of the escape.

Prime Minister Winston Churchill said. "Even though large parts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail.

"We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender,

"And if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the Old."

As Lois wrote his words down for George Taylor, to further the interventionist cause at home. An ocean away she was aware Britain stood alone, defeated in France, but defiant as the Nazi war machine prepared for invasion.

-'S'-

Superman returned to the skies of Metropolis unobserved moving too quickly for human eyes he stopped only to contact Colonel Lane via the telephone on top of the Daily Star Building, the direct line ran to Metropolis Field Army Air Corps Base, and the brief conversation was sobering.

"Glad to know you are alive. The President wishes to see you. Contact me at 1900 hours I should have details for you then."

Superman took to sky, flying out into the mountains to his Secret Citadel. He had questions for his birth parents avatars. Questions that had remained unanswered too long.

Jor-El and Lara's technological ghosts flickered into holographic reality before him within the central chamber of his fortress.

"Father. I have encountered a magical being who draws power from Kryptonite." Superman explained. Then in detail he recounted the fight over Berlin with Wotan, and the subsequent events. "What puzzles me Father is my suit. It changed colours from it's usual red blue and yellow, to black – why would this happen?"

The artificial intelligence which was patterned after the great Kryptonian scientist calculated and responded.

"Information regarding to Kryptonite and magic is limited as both are not native to the Universe of Krypton, however we know from the data we recorded during the voyage across multiple realities that Kryptonite resulted from the interaction between the magical god-wave and living metal of Kyptonian design. This creature called Wotan only confirms the relationship between Kryptonite, magic and the god-wave event, which by cascading across multiple realities created god beings across this universe and perhaps many others."

"And the reaction of this Kryptonian uniform?"

Lara spoke. "That was entirely appropriate Kal-El – the material construct is designed to react to your physiological condition, when you are seriously injured it should default to a healing matrix mode, which is indicated by the change in colours."

"I don't remember this happening when the first Kryptonite meteor shower passed the Earth?"

"That was because Kryptonite was entirely an unknown, since that event your body has begun to adjust – evolve to the changed circumstances of this universe – in the same way the suit being a Kryptonian construct is capable of evolving – learning, how to deal with unexpected events; initially it was as confused and damaged by K-metal as you were."

"Does that mean I will learn to resist magic?" Superman asked.

"Your physiology is reactive, evolving – after any trauma it will attempt to adjust – to strengthen your defences against what hurt you. However I do not have enough data on magic to compute an answer to such a general question regarding magic.

"However if you encounter Wotan again, providing the nature of his magical power has not changed, you should be better able to resist him."

Superman nodded. There were as ever with magic and kryptonite too many unknowns, and it would be foolhardy to expect Wotan not to have learned or improved his capabilities after their fight.

Superman considered these things as he prepared for a trip to his parents farmstead, readying the Secret Citadel for another special resident.

-'S'-

The invisible plane of Wonder Woman landed on the Island of Themyscira. The Queen and her council of ministers listened to her daughter's tale of bravery and victory, and the successful sealing of the Nekropolis.

"I shall return to the Patriarch's World and recover the Fist of Ares." Wonder Woman stated.

"It is good to know that the Hand cannot be used by the undead to travel through the gateway between worlds." Hippolyta said. "And as frustrating as it must be to have to pursue this kindred to the vrykolakas, at least he has returned to the earthly realm alone, and not at the head of an army of blood drinkers."

Afterwards Princess Diana met Diana Prince.

"There will be much explaining to be done." Prince observed. "Colonel Darnell will want to know where... we've been."

"Yes I imagine so. I trust Wonder Woman's explanation will be satisfactory."

"As do I."

"I sense there is something more troubling you, more than the thought – the fear of going back."

Diana Prince blushed.

"You wish to do something else?" Wonder Woman guessed.

"Oh Princess. Oh so much – I don't want to have anything to do with the Army, or espionage, or anything like that, I've had my fill of such things, I've had enough adventure for a lifetime."

"What do you want?" Diana asked.

"My fiancé has been working in South America since last summer, and I dearly want to see him again.

"I've had time to think about things, about the future, and I realise now that I am ready to marry, to have a family – before, when he left, I wasn't – now I am, and I want to go to him. Can you take me?"

"What of your life as Diana Prince in the United States?"

"I know what I want now, and that life isn't for me. If you want it Wonder Woman it's yours for as long as you need it."

"You want me to continue to use your name?"

"Yes if it's any use to you, I'll be Diana White before too long anyway – if Richard will still have me, that is."

"He'd be a fool not to." Diana said. "Very well, tell me where this Richard White is working and I will take you."

-'S'-

Superman landed in the United States. Maryland, the Farmstead where his parents had farmed since fleeing the Dust Bowl to help his mother recover from her respiratory problems arising from the dirty thirties.

Krypto bounded to him, the dog would have been a blur to human eyes, a rapid patch of white mist and dust as he bounced about his masters feet, briefly coming to rest, before falling out of focus once more.

"Good to see you son." Jonathan Kent shook Superman's hand. "Your mother will be pleased to see you. She said she wasn't worried, but after that editor of yours wrote to us saying you were being listed as missing in a war zone, she was a-worrying whatever she said."

Superman sat at the kitchen table and share a coffee with his family, Krypto by his feet, as his mom fussed bringing him baked treats he recounted the turbulent events of the past weeks.

Jonathan puffed on his pipe as he listened. "I suppose I should not be surprised." He said at last. "But I am concerned. If magic can hurt you – you are going to have to be careful."

Superman smiled. "I know Pa – but people are risking their lives every day to do the right thing."

"I don't like the fact Roosevelt is going to drag us into this war." Jonathan grumbled.

Superman frowned. "There is something I should tell you." He said quietly. His Pa nodded grimly, his mother sat down beside him.

"There is a magic rock, it came from space – it can hurt me." Superman went onto explain the nature and effects of Kryptonite.

"Your telling me that the Nazi's have their hands on this stuff?" Jonathan Kent asked.

"I am certain that was part of Wotan's power yes – I know it has something to do with the reptilian Annunki, the Typhon as Diana calls them."

"Diana is this Wonder Woman?" Martha asked.

Superman nodded.

"And she is as beautiful as the Washington papers say?"

"More so. The Amazon island of Themyscira is a Paradise where the people outshine the scenery – if not for Diana's genius, and the power of the Amazon's purple ray I'm not sure I'd have ever been able to see the light of day again."

"It appears we owe this Princess much." Jonathan noted. Martha took his hand.

"Imagine darling our boy is consorting with Royalty."

Superman nodded. He was all too aware of the differences between the European Princess and the farm-boy from Kansas. "We have common purpose." He said. "And that is a great leveller."

"So son are you interested in this girl?" Martha asked directly.

"Martha Kent." Jonathan said with wry smile. "You should know better than to ask a young man such a question.

"As his mother, I must."

"I really don't have time for such things." Superman replied evasively.

Martha recognised this, and changed tack. "What about Mr Taylor, and the Daily Star, when are you going to tell them you are okay?" His mother asked.

Superman ate another of her cookies. "I haven't decided yet honestly mom."

"It's hardly fair to let your friends and colleagues wonder whether you are dead or alive, maybe never coming back – what about that Lois Lane, I was under the impression you were sweet on each other? Perhaps Diana has changed that?"

Superman waved his hand dismissively. "It's all more complicated for me than boy meets girl."

"How?" She asked. "You deserve some happiness in life." His mother looked hurt.

Pa Kent began working on his pipe. Superman listened to the rhythm of their hearts. He knew how much they cared – understanding they wanted him to be happy. He said. "I don't know mom, when I first encountered kryptonite, there was a brief time when I didn't know if my powers were coming back, and I thought about living an entirely human life as Clark Kent; reporter, but that has it's own problems, because even if I were normal I couldn't sit idly by. However my powers returned, and things been the way they are I have to lie to my colleagues while living a double life.

"At first all I wanted to do was be close to the news, so I could better help people – to be honest it's begun to get complicated. Now with war raging across half the world I could spend every waking moment stopping people killing each other, and bombs dropping – ships being sunk."

"You can't mean..."

"Perhaps Clark Kent – Reporter, is best where he is."

Jonathan stabbed his pipe stem at his son. "Now boy, don't go thinking like that, this war - it's not your responsibility, I thought you'd understood this long ago, you can't be everywhere, save everyone, you need time to be you."

"This is me dad." Superman pointed to the S. "It's always been me, I can't turn it off, I'm always harder than steel, faster than a bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

"Long ago you told me I should use my powers to assist humanity, allowing Hitler to crush the democracies of Europe isn't helping - ending Nazi tyranny is the best way I can do this."

Jonathan angrily thumped the table his son had made for them after puppy Krypto had used the previous one as a chew toy.

"I understand son; dammit you don't have to quote my words back at me!

"I just don't want you to forget who you are, behind that suit, behind the symbol of hope.

"Clark you are our child; a child of two worlds yes, Kal-El is your name too - but you are our son. I would be betraying myself and you if I didn't urge you to keep that thought – keep close to your humanity."

"I will Pa – Mom, I'm here as often as I can."

Martha put her hand on his. "We won't be here forever. You shouldn't leave yourself alone Clark, everyone needs love."

Superman looked at her uncertainty in his eyes.

"Clark why do you think your parents sent you here, if not to find people that looked like you, loved like you?"

Superman found himself without an answer. Of course Lara wanted him to be happy, Jor-El wanted the house of El to continue; The Kents wanted this for him too.

"Son there is something else we should tell you, your mom and I are going to move back to Smallville. Alfie says after the rains came back last year things are getting better. I think I want to go home."

"That's great Pa, but what will Alfie do?" Superman replied glad to change the subject.

"Oh I don't mean to take up on the farm again, old Bill Patterson writes to me on and off, and he's retiring from running his shop and moving to Metropolis to be nearer his grandkids."

"You father has a hankering to be a store keeper." Martha said.

"Really – that's great."

Jonathan took a long look at Krypto curled around his sons feet. Superman understood, the meaning of the look. "I guess it must have been real tough with me away so long, for you and my puppy."

Jonathan nodded slowly. "He's very obedient, incredibly so, given his strength he has to be, but Krypto _needs you_ son."

"You are right Pa." Superman replied. "I was thinking along those lines and I mean to take Krypto with me this time in any case. I've made a spot for him ready at my place in the Mountains." Then as an after thought he added. "Perhaps I should get somewhere in the city where I can keep a pet."

Martha smiled as Superman stroked his dog. He looked at her catching her expression. "See mom, you don't have to worry - at least someone loves me." He said.

-'S'-

Lex Luthor's finger tapped the dial on the maturation tank. He turned to the tall Annunki Solateedoh, who was hovering over his shoulder, his presence reminded the America defector of a predatory bird, indeed the feathered reptilian claimed to be related both to the dinosaur and the bird.

"Anunnki technology is remarkable." Lex stated. He had learned that the reptilians were a proud race, and flattery was a useful oil with which grease the wheels of their working relationship. The creatures head feathers fluttered ever so slightly, Luthor recognised this as an approximation of human smile.

In the bunkers that served to house Luthor's extensive warren of laboratories and staff that the Nazi military-industrial complex had provided the officers of project Ahnenerbe, it's President Walther Wüst, Karl Willigut, and the beautiful but deadly Baroness Paula Von Gunther were shown the current status of Luthor's Ubermensch program.

"I expect to deliver in mere months rather years mature soldiers cloned from the American Superman's genetic material, super-soldiers – Ubermensch, for the Fuhrer."

Willigut wore an amulet of ancient design, the gold gleamed against the black of uniform. "This magic artefact means Wotan sees and hears these things." The Colonel said.

"I trust Lord Wotan sees the value in this project." Luthor said with a smile. He patted the maturation tank, a cylinder with dials set below a porthole like window, through which the unmistakable form of a baby could be seen floating in a pinkish fluid. There was an odd meeting of worlds, the grey industrial steel of the laboratory equipment provided familiar shapes was joined to tendrils of silver that pulsated with light – the Annunki's living machine.

"Lord Wotan will form an opinion when he can test the metal of these soldiers." Willigut replied.

Luthor nodded, uncertain where the opinions of Karl Willigut ended and Wotan's began, or visa versa, there was something unnatural about the older man.

"How long will this be?" Paula asked. "You said months as opposed to years – how many?"

"I expect 18 months to an adult specimen, the infant you see is only three weeks old in actuality, but already presents at an average birth weight."

"Then the baby is already viable?" Colonel Wüst asked.

"Yes we could if we wished crack open the maturation chamber and the subject would effectively be born, and from that point the child would grow and age normally, provided the cloning process has been successful."

Willigut leapt on the admission. "Herr Doctor, what pray tell do you mean, by _successful_?"

Luthor's anger became visible in his eyes, but he bit down on his anger. "The cloning process is not a simple one, some of the subjects present early with congenital disorders, and are withdrawn, others do not present until later."

"So you cannot guarantee any subject will achieve the target accelerated maturity? Any – including this one." Willigut pointed to the chamber beside Lex, might exhibit problems as it matures?"

"Nothing is certain." Luthor replied.

Willigut smiled, having made his point.

"However." Luthor continued. "Similar experiments carried out by the Annunki have been successful."

Lord Solateedoh bowed his head, in acknowledgement. "I can assure you that it is only the unusual nature of the American Superman's genetic material, that complicates this process, the principal of accelerated maturation is an old one for my race."

The Baroness looked into the vat once more. "How useful will be a mature man if he has not received instruction, it is one thing to have the body of man, but what of the mind to direct it?"

Luthor nodded. "That is an excellent question, Baroness.

"The Annunki developed the process to breed their warrior-servant caste, I have adapted the technology to suit human learning parameters, as this child rests in the artificial womb you see it is receiving a constant stream of stimulation of all five senses, as time passes the order and nature of that stimulation will alter and reflect the biological age of the growing child."

"You are teaching these... children while they grow?"

"Absolutely, they are being raised as soldiers of the Third Reich, who hear the Fuhrer's voice before any other."

-'S'-

Clark Kent walked into the Cumberland Hotel near Marble Arch, London. Doffing his hat he readied himself for the inevitable.

Lois stood by the reception desk key in hand, she felt her breath catch in her throat, and her fingers loosen, such was the surprise, followed by a metallic clatter as her dropped room key contacted the hard floor.

Clark smiled his goofy grin, adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"What's the matter Lois, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Lois leapt on him, wrapping her arms around his ill-fitting jacket and gasping.

"Clark you're alive, I don't believe it, you're alive." Breaking free. She looked up at him, tears brimmed in her eyes, as the violet pools darkened, and she punched his arm, Kent rolled away.

"Ouch, Damn you Kent. Where the hell have you been, what was the idea letting a girl think you were dead, Taylor is going to roast you alive for this one."

"Good to see you too Lois." Clark said.

Sitting down for coffee he explained his long absence.

"I was in Norway and travelling North, as best as I know..."

"What do you mean?" Lois interrupted.

Clark came to the point tapping his head. "Amnesia." He said. "I don't know what happened." He shrugged. "They reckon I may never remember exactly how I got injured..."

"You're hurt?" Lois asked with concern.

"I was, a really good crack to the head - it's all better now."

"Why didn't you get in touch!"

"I didn't remember anything for quite sometime, and then it happened, like the flood gates opened and I remembered, at least most of it. So now I'm here."

"How?"

"The Brits found me, evacuated my with their injured, it's all a bit fuzzy to be honest."

"Typical." Lois muttered. Hitting him again playfully. "Probably the best story you're going to get – ever, and you can't remember what happened to you?"

"Yeah." Kent replied with self depreciating laugh, in his eyes were real regret as he saw Lois buy his misdirection.

"Well you're timing is impeccable, I was just making plans to catch the boat back home."

"Gee that's swell Lois. - It'll be great to see Metropolis again."

-'S'-

Steve Trevor sifted through the intelligence reports that had arrived encoded to the American Consulate in Berlin. Among them a note from his Commanding Officer Colonel Darnell – 'Steve. Please find enclosed the report from Diana Prince explaining the events surrounding her unscheduled absence.'

Steve opened the manilla folder and began reading.

Prince outlined how after being kidnapped by Nazi agents she had assisted Wonder Woman locate an artefact – a Weapon of Magical Dominance - called the Hand of Mars, her account shifted from a first hand account, to the third person as she transcribed Wonder Woman's testimony. Steve recognised her references to the Paradise Island of Themyscira remembering his own visit earlier that year.

Two things were abundantly clear. Wonder Woman, Superman and the other heroes claimed they had averted an invasion of vampires, and more importantly to Steve Trevor, intelligence officer, the Hand of Mars was still in play, returned to Europe by the Red Monk's Abbott.

Leaving the Chancery on Parsier Platz near the Brandenburg Gate, Trevor left the US Embassy slipping unseen into the night. Taking a route that brought him into the Tiergarten park with all the nonchalance of a casual stroll Trevor, weaves his way through the darkness.

"Hello old friend." Steve turns to the German speaker, taking him by the hand. "Hello Blake. What gives?" He asked quietly.

"I was keeping an ear out for anything that might involve our noble lady friend."

"Paula Von Gunther?" Steve asked.

"Yes." Blake replied. "She arrived in Berlin a couple of weeks ago, and since then she's not been seen outside of certain circles. You heard of project Ahenerbe?

"Yeah the search for Weapons of Magical Dominance is there thing." Trevor confirmed he understood.

"Among others." Blake paused. "You know our capes are ganging together?"

"I heard a whisper. Surprised it's made it's way to you."

"Looks like the Germans have a similar idea." Blake replied.

"What have you heard?"

"Reich Knights." Blake whispered. "It' all very hush, hush, but you can bet that Wotan is leading them."

-'S'-

"You wanted to see me sir?" Superman asked the President of the United States.

Roosevelt looked up at the Man of Steel. "Finally you got the message I take it?"

"Yes Sir, I've been busy."

Superman saw the report from Alsos on the President's desk. He had briefed Colonel Lane on his return to Metropolis.

"I gather that." FDR said, his finger tapping on the file. his tone indicating both frustration and displeasure. "You realise the Germans wrote to me complaining about you?"

"I'm sorry."

"You are sorry?" The President lent back in his chair incredulous.

"Yes Sir, I am sorry I didn't succeed in getting my hands on Hitler and ending this war, if I had France might not have fallen, Norway, the Low Countries, might still be free."

"Perhaps." FDR said quietly. "Then again has it occurred to you who might have replaced Herr Hitler – did you think you could cut the head of the Hydra, and it wouldn't just sprout another one as foul as the last?" FDR was not sure this was true, Hitler had lead his country effectively – yet he was not infallible, the German High Command had let the British and French armies for the most part evacuate from the fall of France, a military miscalculation. Churchill was now resolute in the face of a probable invasion, had the troops not escaped across the channel, England would have been gravely weakened.

Superman was honest about his motives. "I was angry at the sights and sounds of war. I admit that anger clouded my judgement."

"I understand that – but you can't allow yourself the luxury of emotional decisions. I can't. America's position has to be a balanced one. If America is to help the British, I have to persuade Congress to support Britain to defend democracy in Europe.

"I need you to understand it, the politics of this situation."

"I do Sir."

"Good. I need you to be clear on this. I don't want you unilaterally attacking the Nazi's – not yet any way. Besides it looks like you had your hands full over the last few weeks anyway." Roosevelt opened the Alsos file.

"I see you captured one of those subterranean reptilians. Good it can perhaps provide valuable intelligence.

"However this business with the Red Monks is troublesome."

"We're confident we shut the door and bolted it Mr President."

FDR nodded, he read the code-names of the superhuman's who had worked together to prevent an invasion of the undead.

"This society you have formed. Do you have a name yet?"

"We have settled upon the Justice Society."

"The Justice Society of America, has a certain ring to it." The President said.

"Superman – the American people can defend these shores against human threats, against men with guns.

"American factories can give Churchill the tools to defend democracy.

"But things like these Reptilians, the Brotherhood." FDR paused, he gestured at Superman.

"It seems to me your role is clear." FDR declared. "There are threats to democracy, and this great republic – the wider world, that cannot be met by mere men bearing arms, by conventional means – the Justice Society - you are our only line of defence against these unspeakable horrors.

"In short son I need you take on the Monsters, and let us mere mortals worry about the war."


	54. Chapter 54

Superman flew to the quiet Washington street in the dark of night, the shadows muting the Metropolis Marvel's bright primary colours. The home he sought was distinguished by a simple brass plaque, carrying the name; Doctor Occult, followed below by the title 'Ghost Detective.'

The door was attended by Doctor Occult's butler, the wood and stone were no barrier to Superman's x-ray like vision, or his preternatural hearing, and the Man of Tomorrow watched the older man approach down the hall. Occult had told him "Jenkins the door, our visitor has arrived."

Superman did not ring the bell. It was unnecessary. Jenkins greeted him with a courteous nod of his head and his English accent sounded entirely appropriate. "This way Sir."

Superman suspected that late night callers like him, were an occupational hazard, he did not expect that a 'Ghost Detective' kept regular hours.

Internally the house had all the signs of a secondary residence, there was the hint of a woman's touch in places, the presence of flowers, the occasional choice of decorative picture, and for Superman the tell tale scent of perfume lingering behind the predictable tobacco smoke.

Jenkins gestured for Superman to proceed into a large room off the entrance hall which was appointed as an office, and was masculine in its singular purpose.

Occult stood up from behind a large dark desk and welcomed his guest.

"Superman I am glad you were able to come." He said walking to greet him.

Superman extended his hand, their shared an uncanny resemblance, it was as if the same artist had drawn them, as if the gods had made them brothers.

Occult however did not wear a cape. Superman had unintentionally created that particular fashion, and his style was being followed. Many of the heroes who had emerged from the shadows inspired by his dramatic public appearance in Metropolis two years before, had intentionally copied his costume – an alien fashion, once a Kryptonian standard had become de rigueur among the vigilante Metahuman community. These new heroes had taken to wearing capes, strong colours, and tight fitting costumes; styles previously were seen only at the circus or on the stage, or Saturday morning movie serials. Superman's choice of costume had been one of necessity as only his Kryptonian fabric could withstand the abuse his powers dealt it; while theirs was imitation, but Superman recognised it as the sincerest form of flattery.

Occult however was an older kind of hero, one who worked in the shadows, not making headlines in Newspapers like the Daily Star, or even becoming an urban legend propagated by the tabloid scandal sheets that loved the legendary Bat-Man of Gotham.

Occult's signature trench coat and hat that hung in the hall way. Today in his study, his hand tailored double breasted suit marked him as a man of means. While the walls of his home were repositories for knowledge, lined with shelves, vast numbers of books surrounded them, histories and mythologies, many having great value as a result of both age, and rarity; but also an immeasurable worth – that of hidden knowledge, of magic and mystery. These marked him as a man of learning.

"Doctor - Gio Zatara told me you had something of great importance to discuss with me." Superman said shaking the other man's hand.

"Thank you Superman for sparing me your time."

"I was in the neighbourhood."

Occult nodded. "How was the President?"

"Angry and troubled." Superman replied, Zatara had assured him that Occult was a trusted friend – a fellow Master of Magic.

"I asked to see you because our shared future is uncertain, even to my colleague Doctor Fate."

"These are uncertain times." Superman replied, thinking of the mysterious Helmet of Nabu that both empowered Kent Nelson, and had dressed him in blue and gold after the fashion Superman had started. Not all wore capes; remembering the Hawks, and he smiled when he thought of Diana – each had a style all their own, one that came from a less puritanical time, when the human form was more celebrated than concealed. He took charge of his thoughts pushing aside Wonder Woman's god given looks and concentrating the reality of the battles they had fought together.

Occult addressed his recent adventures saying. "These are dark times Superman, and I know you have already witnessed them - the hidden dangers that lurk in the shadows."

"That monsters are real?" Superman said. "That creatures of myth and magic live among us? Yes I have seen such things."

"Indeed you have Superman; the mechanisms of Hephaestus, the Annunki Vault, the Nekropolis, and the paradise islands that are Themyscira.

"However there are other hidden realms, there are friends and foes, creatures of magic and science who are now choosing sides in a war that will envelop the world. That you are to play a role in this battle of titans is as inescapable."

"I have chosen my side. Truth and Justice, defending the American way."

Superman wondered why this Master of Magic had asked to see him. Occult seemed to sense this.

"And then there is Wotan." Occult stated. "Wotan, who bested you. Wotan who at his strongest can defeat us all."

Superman frowned, was this why Doctor Occult wished to see him to remind him of his weaknesses and his defeat? "I hurt Wotan – of that I am sure, and I won't make the same mistake twice." He vowed.

"Do you understand what he is?" Occult asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Wotan is an olden god resurrected."

"Olden god – what is that?"

"The olden gods are personas worn by ancient beings of power, they appear as the personification of human wants and desires, drawing energy from the well spring of human consciousness."

Superman considered this statement carefully, he was aware people - entities were not what they seemed. "I have met Hephaestus." He said.

"If you saw him now – once again resident in the realm of Olympus, you would not recognise him."

Superman looked puzzled. "How so?"

"Because he wears the persona of the god of blacksmiths, of technology and industry. His appearance has changed as you and I might change our clothes, but for him it is a transformation into the handsome giant of myth."

"Okay, that I can understand - what has this ability to look radically different, to look like peoples beliefs and expectations to do with Wotan's strengths?"  
"Wotan is first a man - a man no doubt of unique abilities and history – he would have to be – but the Nazi's have clothed this man in a persona – a personification of a human want and desire – an olden god." Occult explained. Taking a book from his desk he showed Superman an old engraved image; the Teutonic god of war.

"Wotan – once worshipped by the Germanic tribes. Now worshipped again by the Nazi's – for political reasons through the cult of the Third Reich, ."

"I don't follow you."

"The Nazi's empower Wotan – make him strong – by channelling the emotional energy, drawing power from the collective consciousness of their nation and their newly conquered territory."

"How can that happen?" Superman asked, adding. "Honestly I know stage magic. I know tricks - slight of hand and I have studied mesmerism, but real magic – the magic of the gods; the things you – Doctor Fate, Gio do,.. I don't understand it.

"What do you mean by the personification of desires?" Superman paused thinking for a moment. "Surely emotions and ideas are insubstantial? I mean Doctor how do you bottle a ghost?" He asked thinking of Occults second title, Ghost Detective.

"Exactly Superman." The Doctor agreed. "We are talking of ghosts in this sense, to you, to science, these are insubstantial energies - energies that should not by rights be tapped by modern man, this is a power that has always been the preserve of the Elder gods."

"Then _how_ have the Nazi's empowered Wotan?" Superman asked.

"That is an excellent question." Occult agreed with a quiet sigh. "I know _where_ the power comes from – but _how_ Hitlers Occult Scientists are able capture and channel this energy into the body of a mere man, creating Wotan. I am just not sure." Occult paused obviously uncomfortable with speculation. "I only know of the God-Wave event that created the gods of the old world, that gave them this ability. How the Nazi Occult Scientists might recreate this ancient power I do not know. I have my suspicions, although I cannot make sense of them."

Occult paused returning the book to his desk. He looked at the Man of Steel questioningly.

"Essentially Superman it comes down to this – the Wisdom of the Ages has always been this, that the God-Wave event cannot be recreated, and yet with Wotan it's power returns – I am deeply troubled as to how can this be?"

-'S'-

Lois Lane hammered on the door of Clark Kent's berth aboard the Calcutta, a neutral freighter. The American Reporters had bought passage on her, it was no cruise liner, but they had taken what was available, sailing from Southampton out into the Atlantic south to the Iberian peninsula.

The Reporters had been berthed in adjoining cabins on the neutral merchantman, the Calcutta was returning to it's home port of Lisbon. In Portugal Lane and Kent intended to catch a liner - the SS Washington which was evacuating American citizens from Europe.

Lois was angry about the war, angry that so many people wanted to appease the Nazi regime. The crumpled Newspaper she held in her hand had carried an article that had made her mad, but that was an excuse, really Lois was worried.

Clark Kent had disappeared for weeks, had been given up as dead by her contact in the British Secret Intelligence Service Viscount Phelps, only to return to her his usual affable if clumsy self.

"Clark?" She asked. "Amnesia is serious." She stated more to herself, because otherwise she was talking to the door of his berth. "Kent have you passed out? Damn it answer me. Are you sea sick?"

Silence greeted her.

"Can I help you Miss." a male voice asked in passable English.

She turned and shook her head, the swarthy sailor was passing by, his smile was genuine enough, the kind a guy likes to give a pretty girl.

"My colleague." Lois replied. "He's a heavy sleeper. Probably took something. I can't raise him." She said. Kicking Kent's door one more time Lois returned to her own cabin.

-'S'-

"The God Wave was something that Ultra Humanite first told me about." Superman told Doctor Occult. His mind drawing conclusions of his own. Conclusions he did not care for.

Occult looked at him directly. "And what do you know of the God Wave – strange visitor from another planet?"

Superman frowned. He should not be surprised that his secret was discernible to a man of magic like Doctor Occult, he suspected Zatara knew. Gio had used magic to heal a gunshot wound a depowered Clark Kent had received. At the same time Zatara's spell purged him of the Kryptonite poisoning that was crippling him. He had seen the surprise in Gio's eyes, the doubt and the questions. The idea irked him. Quickly he put aside such thoughts and decided to come clean.

"I was sent here to Earth in a spaceship that travelled not only between stars, but also the barrier between universes.

"Alternative Realities – Parallel Dimensions – Infinite Earth's." Occult said apparently he was not fazed by the revelation. Clearly the supernatural detective was familiar with the reality of metauniverse.

"Yes." Superman had not discussed this with anyone but the avatars of his birth parents, it was odd meeting an individual who could appreciate the complexities of his origin. "During my voyage my spaceship was damaged by the God-Wave event as it travelled between Universes. The living metal of it's superstructure was transformed, and now when exposed to light energy the K-Metal mutates growing a crystalline substance that emits dangerous radiation.

"This Kryptonite emits energy that hurts and injures me, robs me of my powers, but can also cause strange powers to manifest in others. I have seen telepathy in one and then superhuman strength accompanied by madness occur in another, they were normal people until they were exposed to Kryptonite." Superman recalled the Winstons, but chose not to name them.

Doctor Occult ran his hand through his dark hair making the connection himself. "Then the Barnett Winston Comet was connected to you and your spaceship – wasn't it?"

"The meteors are what remains of it – yes." Superman replied. "When the comet passed by the Earth some of the material made it to ground, for a time there was a short lived but intense spike in Kyrptonite radiation that robbed me of my powers."

"Hence the tell tale energies of the God-Wave that I detected at that time." Occult gasped. He turned to gaze into the flames of the fire. Lost in thought for a long moment. "I had no idea how this could be – it was like waking up one morning to see a dinosaur grazing outside in my back yard!" Doctor Occult raised his hands to emphasize his words.

"The God-Wave is an ancient event, unique to the olden times – and yet in the night sky was it's signature in that comet.

"But now I see what has happened, your space craft did not conform to the normal laws of space and time, so it behaved like an accidental time capsule."

Superman said. "As I fought with Wotan I recognised that he had been exposed – even infused with Kryptonite radiation. Given what you have told me about Wotan's abilities I can only conclude the two are connected."

Angrily the Doctor hit the flat of his palm with his fist."I am certain you are right, an Occultist must have used the crystalline Kryptonite to channel the collective energies of the cult of the Third Reich into the persona of Wotan."

Superman continued. "But Doctor there was more going on that that. Simply being in the territory of the enemy hurt me - I felt weaker as I approached Berlin. The first time I lost my powers it was because of Barnett Winston Comet's radiation, and this felt much the same. Even before I clashed with Wotan it was as if I was been drained of my strength by Kryptonite."

Doctor Occult nodded solemnly and said. "I am not in the least surprised."

Superman clenched his fists exasperated. "I was. I was completely surprised. Why would that be? Do you have any ideas? - Because I know the comet isn't back - that much is obvious." He gesticulated skyward. "And yet I am feeling the effects of green-K; worse the cumulative effects." Superman sighed. It was hard for him to admit weakness. "Every time I am knocked down my Kryptonite radiation I get back up again, my strength returns - but not entirely, I'm steadily getting weaker, slower, more vulnerable.

"Doctor I fear I'm being poisoned."

Occult said. "Superman this is why I had to talk to you – and it is the crux of our problem." He gestured to Superman to join him. From his desk he retrieved a Map. Spreading out a rendering of the world on his desk, Doctor Occult traced around the territories occupied by the Nazi's. "This is Wotan's Sphere of influence. His power is greatest where the Nazi's are strongest, but now his power is growing fed by the fear and pain of the defeated." A dark red shadow seemed to appear on the map marking the Nazi's conquests.

Superman understood the glow was some of Occult's magic.

"These are the Axis powers." Doctor Occult added Italy and Japan, and other allies of Germany. These were now magically coloured red alongside the Nazi conquests. "Here Wotan is also strong; but not as strong as he was over Berlin." Here the colour darkened until it was almost black.

He pointed to British Isles. "This territory is threatened by invasion, and the Luftwaffe's bombs." The United Kingdom turned a blue colour. "Here Wotan has power – he can reach and do harm, but this is true where ever there is war – it is disputed territory. Here the fight would more equal." The colours overlapped becoming purple.

Then he moved to America. "The United States is not beyond his reach of Hitler's forces, so Wotan is at his weakest here." The blue glow was at it's purest here with flashes of purple where Diana had encountered the Nazi Agents in New York. Other flashes indicated the work of fifth columnists.

"However his weakness beyond Germany is relative, the truth is Superman, Wotan is more powerful than ever, and with each Nazi victory he grows stronger.

"In short Superman Wotan is poisoning not only you, but the world."

Superman frowned, face dark and angry. "This explains it." He wondered where this would end – if this war would be the death of him?

Doctor Occult nodded. "That is his power – his poison; this is the sphere of Wotan's influence, his energies permeate the conquered territories, and Germany itself, just as the Nazi soldiers control these areas.

"That is what I wanted you to understand Superman. You and the other heroes who stood with you against the Brotherhood of the Wolf – the Justice Society, they are like a moth and Hitler is a flame, the closer you fly, the greater danger you are in."

"The closer I am to Wotan's power, the weaker I am?" Superman asked. "Is that the bottom line."

"It is Superman. I thought it a new magic, perhaps even a new god wave event, but it was something else – it is Kryptonite and magic harnessed together by the Nazi regime."

"My Achilles Heel." Superman said.

"However it is no longer just _your_ Achilles Heel." Doctor Occult warned. "The power of Krypt-magic makes Wotan a real threat – to _all_ who would oppose Hitler's Third Reich."

Superman considered this for a moment. "And if Wotan were to possess the hand of Mars?"

Dr Occult looked at him with the sternest of faces. "It is as Doctor Fate told you. Wotan's power would extend to the United States and beyond. The Fist of Ares would magnify the sphere of Wotan's influence to the whole world!

"You would be rendered as powerless as you were over Berlin. We all would be – that is the power of the Hand of Mars."

Superman was dumbstruck, he had helped Wonder Woman out of duty, helped the Bat-Man defeat the Vampiric Brotherhood's kidnapping ring; together they had prevent an invasion of the undead, but he had not fully realised the danger the Hand of Mars truly posed.

"More over that the Spectre who is bound by a higher power would not be able to intervene, and we – the Sentinels of Magic, would not be strong enough to defeat Wotan alone." Occult said. "If the Nazi's secure the Hand of Mars for Wotan, the war is as good as over, even before America gets to fire a shot."

-'S'-

"Professor Barnett Winston?"

The older man looked up from his work. The door to his office in Metropolis University was ajar and sandy haired gentleman peered through.

"Yes – Can I help you young man?" Barnett asked. All men under forty were young men to him.

"I'm Robert Meersman." Came the reply.

"Come in, come in, don't hang around in the door way. Meersman did exactly that.

He took a seat across from the Professor.

"How can I help you." Barnett asked. "I don't recognise you from any of my classes?"

"It's been a good ten years since I graduated Professor, but thanks." Meersman offered the Professor a card, Barnett took it, and adjusting his glasses read it.

"Ah you are that Robert Meersman." Barnett declared. "I read your paper on the potential for nuclear science, and you were a signatory to the Einstein–Szilárd letter last year.

"As were you." A quiet understanding passed between them.

Barnett spoke softly. "So is it the potential for an Atom Bomb that brings you to my door."

"I wouldn't say that exactly."

"Then what?" Barnett invited Meerson to come to the point.

"In these troubled times I have felt compelled to do something, something distinct from the industrial-governmental hegemony, something purer."

"Purer?"

"I am lucky enough to independently wealthy Professor Winston."

Barnett gestured and nodded.

"And that has given me an ability to act independently – to fund my own research, but there is only so much I can achieve alone."

"I see you are looking for help?"

"Exactly."

"And what are you wanting achieve exactly?"

"A new independent institution. The Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories. Dedicated to pure research for sciences sake."

"An interesting idea. May I ask who else have you approached?"  
"So far only my personal friends, that is Ted Knight, and Saul Erdel, you are my first cold call as you might say."

"That is compliment of a kind" Winston chuckled.

"It was meant as one." Meerson replied. "There is no one more I'd like to oversee the project."

"Me?"

"I know my limitations Professor."

"Now you do flatter me young man." Barnett coughed embarrassed. "Do you intend to fund this endeavour yourself – entirely."

"I have created a charitable trust, and that will enable donations to be made, I have approached the Wayne Foundation, for example - among others, but the keystone remains research, research into advanced science and technology – contact with industry comes after the fact, we will not be driven by the money men, but fully independent from them."

"So in short Professor Meerson, you are asking me to join you at your Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories in,.."

"Oversee Professor. The Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories needs an experienced man like yourself." Meerson explained. "And we intend to based here in Metropolis – at least to start with."

"I see, it's quite a mouthful isn't it?" Barnett chuckled. "I have to say I am interested in your proposal."

"Why don't you come down to the premises I have found, I can talk you through what I plan to build."

"Very well – that is a good place to start." Barnett said.

"I hope you will. I hope you'll join us at S.T.A.R. Labs. The future starts here."

-'S'-

"Kent why won't you answer this door!" Lois Lane demanded. "This is the third time tonight I've tried to talk to you! What are you doing in there?"

Superman closed in on the Calcutta, his speed slowing to subsonic, his body damp with sweat; flying transatlantic twice in one night had been a real effort for him. Grimly he acknowledged the reality of circumstances, reflecting on his meeting with both President Roosevelt and the mysterious Doctor Occult.

He guessed Lois must have had hammered on the door of his cabin earlier to no avail. Clark Kent was not there – Superman had been in North America, and he had not returned in time. His transatlantic flight had taken longer than he expected and this journey had been harder than his last. Then flying back and forth from Baronta, the liner that had taken Lois and Clark to Europe from the States, had been easier. Since then France had fallen and Superman had been beaten senseless by Wotan's growing Krypt-magic power.

Superman dropped to deck of the boat, hiding in the shadows he threw his voice. One of the stage tricks he had mastered as a boy.

"Lois." he coughed. "I'm feeling really sea sick." Clark apparently said from inside the cabin.

Lois made a face, her frustration self evident.

Superman suddenly made a loud noise with his fist on the metal. Lane turned her attention distracted, it was all the time he needed. Superman dashed from the shadows into the night and back around into his cabin. The wind of his passing whipping Lois's hair, and she span around wearing a confused expression as she felt the sudden gust from the sea around her.

Frowning once more Lois hammered on the door of Clark's cabin, the door opened this time. Clark saw first her surprise then her annoyance.

He stood half naked an blanket around his body, still damp from perspiration. His muscles limp and his belly distended he looked nothing like his Superman alter-ego.

"I'm sorry I was asleep. I don't feel too good." Clark said, protesting about sea sicknesses once more. "What's so important."

Lois opened and closed her mouth. "I was worried." She said finally.

Clark concluded she could see his tiredness for herself and had accepted yet another lie from him.

"I'm sorry." Clark said weakly. He was actually feeling the strain of maintaining his distorted posture, he realised he wanted to rest – to get some sleep.

Lane shook her head. He knew his timidity exasperated her.

"Look at this." She told him, passing him a not so recent copy of the New York Times. Lois undoubtedly had been working through whatever papers from home she could find.

Clark quickly read the open pages. "Ambassador to London, Joseph Kennedy is of the opinion Democracy is defeated in Europe, and England can only sue for peace, to fight on would invite only defeat." Clark said. He could see why Lois was angry.

"It's no secret he doesn't believe FDR should run again." He added.

"If England falls does he think Hitler's ambitions end in Europe?" Lois asked, disgust evident in her voice.

"Of course they don't." Clark agreed. "I'm sorry Lois but I think I need to lay down." He returned the newspaper.

"Okay Okie." She said. Blushing she said. "You had me worried there for a while." Clark recognised this as a confession of sorts.

Lois explained herself. "I thought you had past out or something..." Clark understood why she had been so angry; in her mind he was a recently recovered amnesiac, back from the dead. It was uncomfortably close to the full truth of Superman's experiences. She only called him Okie when she was mad with him. "I stuffed my ears with cotton wool." He said. Thinking – that's not far from the truth too, the Krypt-magic of the war zone makes my head feel that way.

"Well get some rest." She said.

"I will." He smiled because he really meant it, and closed the cabin door, before uncharacteristically climbing into his bunk to sleep.

Sleep was a usually an unnecessary luxury; here and now it was one he would have happily forgone - but Superman had returned to the disputed territories of the battle for the Atlantic, here within the magic sphere of influence that Wotan possessed Superman was not himself. Since adolescence sleep had been optional, as an adult he had only felt the need to sleep when recovering from Kryptonite radiation and magic – the forces that could hurt him, and in the warzone he now understood he was being exposed to both.

The explosion rocked the merchant ship waking Clark Kent from his slumber. His first thought was for Lois. Kent sprang from the bed, his head covered in cold sweat, and his mind confused for a moment, before instinct took over, his hand closed around his costume and he acted.

Kent moved at superhuman speed, exiting his cabin, launching himself over the side and into the sea Clark dived into the cold dark waters of the Atlantic.

Superman emerged under the sea from a blur movement, and scanned the hull of the Calcutta above him. The explosion had torn into a section of the freighter amidships, she was taking on water.

Swimming forward like a torpedo himself, his ears searching for the tell tale hum of the U-boat, the author of this disaster. Locating the aggressor moments later with his still superhuman senses, Superman turned his attention back to the stricken freighter. He was acutely aware he no longer possessed the same advantages he had previously enjoyed. Had he not need to sleep, had he been awake; had the Krypt-Magic of Wotan not made him tired - dulling his senses, Superman felt sure the attack Submarine would never have crept upon them; but it had and above Lois, the crew and ship were in danger.

Grabbing the torn metal skin of the merchantman's hull Superman began bending the metal back into place. Closing the gash, but the damage was too great to completely mend by brute force alone, but at least the flow of water below decks was much reduced. This makeshift repair would have to suffice for now.

Superman turned to the U-boat itself. The submarine was actually hunting on the surface, it was quicker and safer for the boat to act like a surface craft, and it's crew could use deck mounted gun. In the darkness the low profile of the Mk VII U-boat made it hard to spot.

In real terms the diesel powered submarine was truly a boat that could submerse on it's limited batteries for short periods. The true submersible – a boat that could remain submerged indefinitely – or even most of the time had yet to be invented.

Superman burst out of the water and smashed into the 88mm deck gun his tremendous strength distorting the barrel. Around him the gun crew open fire with their hand guns, but Superman ignored the bullets, returning to the water he punched the first of the bow torpedo tubes bending the metal plate – again making firing impossible, in quick succession he repeated this a further three times. As he moved the water around the bow of the boat frothed like it was boiling. Then one last punch disabled the single stern tube. Superman's powerful hands grabbing and crippling the rudder apparatus and fouling the propellers.

Bursting from the sea angrily he returned to the listing freighter, and dropping to her stern superman began assisting the crippled ship pushing it towards Lisbon, and out of the range of small arms fire from the crippled submarine. Only then did he return to patch the holed hull.

Tearing a section of deck free Superman welded the steel plate over the holed hull, his heat vision flashing under the water, bonding the metal to hole and sealing the gash shut.

As he laboured he could hear the pumps working to clear the hold of water. Satisfied he landed on deck where Lois Lane was stood.

"Superman!" she called out to him. He could hear the surprise in her voice. That was to be expected. "Superman?" He recognised that tone; inevitable questions would undoubtedly pour from the Girl Reporter. He landed beside her.

"I can't stay Lois." He said. His decision once again to return to the double life of Clark Kent and Superman returned to haunt him; he looked into the violet eyes of the woman who he must continue to deceive.

"What are doing here?" She asked.

Ever the journalist he thought to himself, I must shut her down and quickly. "I was curious where my two favourite new hounds had got to." He replied with a light hearted laugh, at the same time turning away.

"Superman." Lois said hoarsely. He heard the anger and the defeat in her voice as he imagined her watching Superman taking off into the night, wanting more of the Man of Tomorrow; angry that he had not stayed. As soon as he was certain the night hid him from her, Superman turned and raced back to his cabin aboard the Calcutta.

Clark Kent joined Lois Lane as she stared out into the night.

"I guess we are very lucky to have Superman as a friend." He said, acting as if he had been a mere bystander. Hoping Lois had not noticed his absence.

Lois looked back at Clark. He felt her hand reach out and touch his face. "Okie you've an dirty mark just there." She said. "And you smell like diesel and the sea."

"I guess I at least smell like a Sailor." He replied, as her hand ran through the salt crust that had formed on his air dried hair.

Lois fixed him with a lingering stare, and he wondered what she was thinking.

-'S'-

Diana Princess of Themyscira sat across from Steve Trevor, where as he sat opposite the woman he thought to be Diana Prince. He had been waiting for her in a private sitting room in the American Embassy in Berlin. It was well appointed, baroque European elegance, a fire burned beneath a carved marble surround. She past him the envelope containing her orders.

"Lieutenant Prince, how did you get here so quickly?" Captain Trevor asked.

"Wonder Woman was travelling in this direction Sir."

Trevor nodded, hiding his surprise well – but Diana could see it. He quickly opened the sealed envelope. Darnell had included instructions for his eyes only. Trevor read the hand written missive and crumpled the note into his hand and threw it directly into the flames.

"What is Wonder Woman doing in Europe?" Trevor asked her.

Diana sensed a hidden agenda behind his question. She felt herself doubting him, and with these thoughts came guilt, because she knew Steve Trevor was her dead namesakes son. Diana Rockwell Trevor – aviator, lost at sea, her remains lay entombed in a marble temple on Themyscira.

"She seeks the Hand of Mars." Diana replied honestly.

"And so does the Gestapo, the SS and probably Hitler himself when he has a spare minute." Steve said coolly.

Diana looked back at him, she wondered how her blue eyes appeared to him through her unnecessary glasses.

" Lieutenant, do you mind if I call you Diana?" Steve asked with a warm smile.

She nodded. "Whatever you feel is appropriate Sir."

"How would you describe your relationship with Wonder Woman."

"That's quite difficult." Diana replied. "I mean to say it's true I know her better than perhaps anyone else outside of Themyscira."

"Because of the time you have spent together?"

"Yes – you could say that." Diana agreed. "However I am sure Wonder Woman would extend the hand of friendship – a helping hand to anyone in need."

"You don't think you are in a special, privileged position – being close to a superhero as the papers like to call these costumed vigilantes?"

"No Sir, I don't see myself as special, if that makes sense."

"It does Diana – but not everyone gets to ride in a plane that defies the laws of science as we understand them or see the Amazon's magical island paradise."

Diana smiled. "You did Sir."

Trevor laughed. "Yes I did, I guess we have that much in common, we both owe Wonder Woman a debt of gratitude – as does the United States." He paused – leaning forward his body language changed becoming more serious and intense, subtleties that Diana's Amazon training recognised. "Diana I am sure Colonel Darnell briefed you, but to be clear you are here because Military Intelligence believes you can recognise Nazi spies and perhaps agents of the Brotherhood, people you may have already met, identifying them could prove crucial."

Diana nodded. Trevor continued. "To that end you are to accompany me on Embassy related business, both professionally and socially." He added looking her up and down. "I hope you packed a party dress."

"Why?" She asked.

"Because an opportunity presents itself – tonight.

"I have obtained an invitation to Herr Göring's party to celebrate his elevation to 'Reich Marshal of the Greater German Reich' – making him effectively Hitler's chosen successor, as well as commander of the German Airforce."

"What if they are there? I mean if they recognise me?" Diana asked, even though instinctively she believed the aura of the Proteus Mask would prevent this.

"I'm not going to pretend Lieutenant – this role has it's dangers, but as Colonel Darnell explained to you, your cooperation goes a long way to dispel any doubts, he and others might have about you – in the light of your past associations."

Diana appreciated the implicit threat, she was being watched as well as being used. Such was the politics of the Patriarch's World.

Trevor quickly moved to reassure her however saying. "Besides from experience I have found prisoners recognise their jailers more often than visa versa – be ready for twenty hundred hours."

Diana chose a full length blue evening dress, Trevor met her in black tie, his civilian dinner jacket obfuscating his military rank.

As they travelled by car Trevor briefed Diana further.

"In addition to any persons with connections to the Brotherhood, we're on the look out for an agent code-named 'Zytal' – an American who has joined the Nazi cause. Chatter has him close to Göring's inner circle. I'm hoping that he will be at this shindig."

Arriving at Göring's Luftwaffe's headquarters, they joined the other guests arriving for drinks for the larger party that was to follow the formal dinner which had been the province of the Nazi hierarchy.

"Remember Diana." Trevor said in a whisper. "We're interested in anyone you recognise."

Circulating Diana was able to utilise her command of the German language, studying the many tongues of Partiarch's World had been part of her education, now she employed her considerable skills. Her trained mind with photographic recall sifted through the names and biographies of the political and military officers the Embassy had given her to review. Her enhanced senses allowed her to sample multiple conversations simultaneously. Diana listened for any mention of the Hand, or it's pseudonyms. Much of the talk concentrated on the air campaign which had begun almost a week before, the Luftwaffe had begun bombarding channel shipping, and coastal towns of England.

The Luftwaffe's top brass were confident the Royal Air Force would be broken quickly.

Diana could sense the underlying tension and excitement. "England will fall like France." One man laughed. Another said. "The Luftwaffe will crush the RAF, just as they did Poles, and the French."

Göring himself was a large man decked out in an ostentatious uniform, his swagger spoke of bullish confidence, and despite his girth he loved the appellation the Iron Man, but truthfully his glory days as a fighter ace of the Great War were long gone. He spoke of Hitler. "The Fuhrer told me that England, in spite of her hopeless military situation, still shows no signs of willingness to come to terms. So we must prepare to, and if necessary to carry out, a landing operation against her. The aim is to eliminate the English Motherland as a base from which the war against the Third Riech can be continued, and, if necessary," he said with a cold smile, "to occupy the country completely.

"To achieve this the RAF must be beaten down in its morale, it must be broken so that England can no longer display any real opposition to the German crossing."

"Reich Marshal, as confident as I am in the effective superiority of the Luftwaffe, I would remind you that the British have also been developing means of detecting aircraft using microwave radiation."

Diana's attention shifted from the wider room to this speaker's voice in particular, his accent betrayed him to her. He was an American. She tugged on Trevor's sleeve, the Captain turned, he fingers directed him across to where Göring was stood.

Trevor lips tightened and his hands clasped into fists. "Hell that is Lex Luthor." he said quietly.

Diana wasn't sure who Luthor was, but Trevor knew him. She could tell. Was this the mysterious agent Zytlar? "He is an expert in air warfare?" Diana guessed.

"Yes that's the same guy – you're right." Trevor replied. "He's gained a few pounds, but I wouldn't forget that cocky red head, I met him at Metropolis Field when he was working for Campbell Scott – he's a genius, of course – and no older than you. Must have got his hair back, last I heard he was bald as a coot."

Trevor evidently assumed Diana had recognised the young scientist; then again she was aware at this distance Trevor would not be able to eavesdrop on the conversation. "You did good Diana." He took a drink from his Martini. "I didn't know you had an interest in aviation."

"I greatly admire the achievements of Amelia Earhart, Jacqueline Cochran, and Diana Trevor." She saw the reaction of recognition in the man's features. "Indeed all the women aviation pioneers." Diana debated the truth for a moment and added it. "I was as it happens named after your mother." She confessed.

Establishing the identity of Themyscira's fallen foreign champion, the woman who's name she bore, has been a priority for her, while learning at the same time about America's leading heroine pioneers in science, industry, and endeavour.

Steve looked at Diana, she saw in his face surprise and for a brief moment vulnerability, a ghost of a little boy who had lost a parent.

Then the spy that was the actor regained control; back to business his expression told her as he cracked a smile and said. "We should mingle."

Diana did exactly that, she remained alert for anything that might help in her quest.

Agent Zytlar did not disappoint. He left the Reich Marshal and was joined by a tall thin man, with a long dark hair and beard, who lent close to speak to him. "I have prepared the metal as we discussed."

Zytlar nodded, there was something about his bearing that told Diana he was not happy to share his work with the bearded man. Her ability to read intentions was almost as reliable as the grip of the Lasso of Truth.

"The Annunki engine is useless as it is." Zytlar-Luthor stated. "I hope this material proves valid in testing."

Diana recognised the Typhon's adopted name. If these men had knowledge of the hidden realms then she must look more closely at their work. Diana suspected they might be linked to the Brotherhood as was the reptilian race. She determined Wonder Woman would have to investigate this man further.

-'S'-


	55. Chapter 55

-'S'-

Agent Zytal studied the dials of the control console, beyond sunk into a concrete well in the cavernous laboratory was an exposed chassis of the Annunki's incredible flying disc. The machine was stripped of it's skin, cockpit, and ancillaries; at the heart of the skeletal frame span the motor that allowed the machine to fly, performing gravity defying manoeuvres at break neck speed. The disc was fixed solidly to a steel frame that extended into the superstructure of the building itself.

Zytal rubbed his close cropped red hair, cupping the cranium and rubbing the thick muscles of his neck. Earlier at Göring's party an American diplomat had greeted him – calling him Luthor, and while that was his family name, it was not the title he now chose to use. At least not here.

"How goes the tests?" His associate was an older man, bearded, his dark hair much longer than his own. Zytal felt him hovering hawk like beside him.

"It was as you suspected Doctor Hastor." he answered, gesturing to the dials. "The radiation levels have dropped to negligible levels."

"Call me Anton my boy!" Hastor said slapping Zytal hard on the back. His grin was one of triumph. They turned to where the Riech Marshal of the Luftwaffe stood watching the test apparatus.

Göring had arrived on board his personal luxury train, and base of operations, from where he was able to direct the Luftwaffe's campaign against England. The portly head of the Reich's air force watched this test closely with an expectant expression.

Zytal explained. "When the Annunki agreed to share their flying disc technology with the Fuhrer they did so fully knowing that human physiology was ill suited to fly their craft, not only does it multiply the effect of gravity – the so called G-force as their craft accelerate and manoeuvre can cause a man to pass out, but the engines magnetic propulsion system emits dangerous radiation, as detected by the Geiger-Müller counters we have installed in this room. Normally exposure to a working flying disc engine would be quickly lethal, at least for human beings."

"Zytal how are you containing the radiation?" Göring asked. The red head youth smiled thinly, he had worked with Annunki technology for a number of months, and he had not even come close to solving the problem. Then in recent weeks he had been introduced to Hastor, a man of middle eastern extraction, from Egypt originally he had explained, recently leaving America for Germany in search of the Third Reich's generous sponsorship – in this he and Zytal-Luthor were alike.

Hastor had a reputation as an expert in the field of electricity and magnetism. However this was nothing compared to the strange substance he had brought with him.

"Doctor Hastor's unique element seems to absorb the radiation neutralising the negative effects." Zytal pointed to the bare chassis of the flying disc. "There is a thin sheet of the metal – paper thin, fixed around the heart of the Annunki engine." What he did not tell his Nazi Master was that the foil had been worked from the blade of an ancient weapon that Hastor had brought with him.

"Excellent." Göring stated. "This means that we can adapt these flying discs, make them safe for our pilots?"

"That is my conclusion." Zytal stated. "Provided we can source more of this material." Looking to Hastor expectantly, but the older man stonewalled his implicit question. Zytal suspected there was very little of this metal available any where. Perhaps the sword was unique? Zytal did not know.

While that was not his fault, he suspected that it might become his problem.

"How hard is the engine in that disc working?" The Reich Marshall asked.

"At about one eighth of it's potential."

Göring laughed. "Turn it up!" he said. "I want to see it really hum."

Zytal frowned, but acquiesced, honestly he did not see what Hitler saw in this fat peacock of a man. He rotated the dial on the panel and the distant internal cylinder span faster, electrical discharges crackling widely across it's surface.

"At this intensity – only one quarter power we would have previously expected to receive a lethal dose of radiation in a matter of minutes." Hastor stated.

"And now?" Göring asked.

"Nothing." Zytal replied.

Göring's eyes became wide as did his grin. "More power!" he demanded, and Zytal hesitantly increased the setting. The dial measuring the radiation in the room trembled but the count did not change. As Hastor accepted praise from the Reichs Marshal something incredible happened.

Zytal noticed the tremble of the console under his fingers, then his keen eye observed how the reinforced superstructure that contained the laboratories and assocaited buildings begin to vibrate, the complex built over a series of heavy duty bunkers, a web of steel laced concrete trembled, and sang a haunting note.

"What is happening?" Göring demanded. "Agent Zytal?" He spluttered, his bravado evaporating, as the chamber hummed and the structure shivered as if alive. Around them was cacophony of snaps and cracks.

A shout came from above, and a soldier ran down the metal stairs into the laboratory.

"The building it is moving!" He spluttered. "It rises!"

-'S'-

Diana had followed Agent Zytal, the American defector Steve Trevor had identified as Lex Luthor. She did so invisibly from her plane, and it had been easy to track the big Mercedes staff car as it left Berlin to return the scientist to his place of work.

The complex was sited at a rail head, in isolated farm land, and arriving shortly after her quarry and the private train of Reich Marshal Göring. She had watched the pompous officer disembark and enter the connected series of buildings.

Inspecting the installation she saw it had been heavily fortified against air attack. It's modular construction was more like a ship than a series of buildings. There was a number of anti-aircraft guns mounted at key locations, and the complex was heavily guarded by the army.

Wonder Woman concentrated her thoughts and turning around in a pirouette of sublime grace, she engaged her chameleon like ability to change her appearance, Diana Prince emerged where the Amazon Champion had stood, but in the stead of her US army volunteer corps uniform, she wore the grey of the German Army, Diana confidently dropped into the vipers nest.

Behind the check points the buildings staff assumed she was one of them. Moving through the interconnecting buildings Diana gained an insight into their purpose. It was clearly a place of research, a place of science. Whatever the Germans valued lay beneath her feet, but she saw access to the bunkers below required she cross yet more security checks.

When the building began to vibrate she was at first confused. Uncertain she took the first exit outside she could find, and in this she was not alone, the base was disgorging confused personnel into the open, and many wobbled as the struggled with both their footing and the evidence of their eyes.

The pipes and cables running into the complex were being torn up and broken as the whole reinforced concrete edifice rose slowly into the air. Diana leapt clear, others followed suit, the building was only a few feet above ground level, exposing the sealed chambers of the underground bunkers, the mass of interconnecting steel and concrete holding together as one solid citadel. It hovered there steady, holding its position, an impossible sight. Yet the evidence of her eyes was clear. She gasped non the less.

Her Amazon training had seen this effect before, a subtle glimmer, invisible to most, but one she knew, she had seen the glow around the Wings of her new found friends in the Justice Society; Hawk Man and Hawk Girl.

Nth metal was the only answer, the greatest secret of the ancients. Amazon histories spoke in awe of it's power.

Some how the Nazi's had stumbled onto the power of Nth metal, the material that allowed Hawk Man and Hawk Girl to control gravity, that channelled their consciousness and gave them a measure of invulnerability that was similar to her own.

This was not the artefact of power she had come to Germany to find - but Nth Metal represented a serious shift in the balance of power in Patriarchs World. Knowing this she decided it was time for Wonder Woman to meet with Captain Steve Trevor once more.

-'S'-

Wotan stirred in his crypt, he could feel the pulsating energies of his nation – of it's people, of the many who now bowed their knee, conquered – defeated, the spoils of war for him was more strength, and a clarity of vision.

His mind stretched out across Europe like a spiders web, a crystalline invisible lattice, and he felt the life of his people vibrate through the threads into his heart.

He felt the coming and goings of beings of power.

He felt the presence on the periphery – in the war zone of a familiar shape in his minds eye, that tell tale hot bright signature of Superman, burning like the sun, then much closer to home was another vibration pinging his supernatural web, another being of power, one that close to his own, not alien like American Superman, but kin to his own god-given strength.

Wotan laughed.

-'S'-

Arriving at Trevor's Berlin residence quickly was a simple matter for the Amazon Princess who recounted the incredible news.

"This isn't good." Trevor said at last, he ran his hands through his hair. "Damn it – how could they get so ahead of us so fast?"

"Nth Metal is the greatest of the secrets from ancient times." Wonder Woman replied.

He was a tall man but he found Wonder Woman his equal, her femininity and relaxed confidence both intimidated him and comforted him. Steve recognised the contradiction, but he also had his mission, to ensure Wonder Woman was on the American side. At least he thought, she serves democracy even if it is to bring bad news.

"This is the stuff that allows Hawkman to fly?" Trevor asked. She nodded. "Then why can't we – why doesn't he help us?" He demanded.

"You mean why don't the Hawks turn over their wings?"

"Yes." Trevor said emphatically. It seemed obvious to him, as American's these costumed heroes should do the right thing. He imagined some genius cracking the secret and new aircraft taking to the skies as a result.

He could see from Wonder Woman's stern expression that she did not agree.

"What you are asking of Hawk Man and Hawk Girl is impossible."

"Why?"

"Because their Wings are ancient artefacts of power - they are _forged_ Nth Metal.

"My Lasso and my Vambrace's are god made, and once forged into a pattern they cannot be unforged, remade in something else. I can't give you or your American Scientists my artefacts of power, they are made for me, and would not work for another. You would destroy them at least, if not yourselves in the trying."

Steve folded his arms, this was something she had told him before, her magic weapons were hers and hers alone.

"Nth Metal is the same, whoever first created Nth Metal made it so, once it is forged it can only be used as it is made." Wonder Woman continued. "As I understand it – as Hawkgirl explained to me, only certain people have the skill, the mind, the force of personality to make it work."

"I couldn't fly using their wings?" Steve asked.

Wonder Woman shook her head, her long dark hair cascaded around her shoulders. "It is as I said. You could try and reshape it – try and master it, but you would fail."

"Then how are the Nazi's doing this?"

"The only way is if they are using raw Nth metal – forged by skilled hands."

"Where could they have got this raw metal from?"

"I honestly don't know." Diana admitted. "That is a question that has been asked down the ages, many wise people have sought Nth Metal, very few have found any."

Steve sighed, and pulled a face, he felt like punching the wall.

"I need to report this back to Washington." He said finally

Wonder Woman nodded, clearly she had said her piece, and was turning to leave him, moving to the same window that had been her point of entrance, as she moved she said. "I was counting on that. The Justice Society needs to hear about this."

"Where are you going?"

"To continue my surveillance of the enemy Captain Trevor. I am sure they will try and quickly turn this discovery to their advantage, to break the unexpected deadlock over the skies of England. When I learn more, I will contact you or your assistant Diana Prince."

"I'd rather you contacted me." Steve said with as much charm as he could muster.

"What's the matter Captain – don't you trust her, or me, or is it women in general?"

Trevor felt angry. "No." He said biting his tongue, keeping his tone sweet, it's just protocol." He shrugged with an apologetic smile, he hoped she would see.

"You should trust Diana, and what she tells you." Wonder Woman replied, turning again to leave him, but Trevor had something else he needed to say.

"Wait! Okay I'll trust Lieutenant Prince." He said, he'd give her that much, since she asked him too. "But there is something you need to know."

She turned back, her blue eyes looked at him directly. He shifted he was not used to having to chase a girl so hard for her attention. Reaching into his briefcase he passed her a manilla file. Wonder Woman opening found it contained a single picture, a woman in an open top Mercedes being driven into a what appeared to be a fortified gate. Above it the Nazi Eagle banner.

"This is Baroness Paula Von Guntha." The Amazon said. "I told you she was a spy."

"Wonder Woman the Baroness may be something much more." He explained.

"Her husband was to all intents and purposes my opposite number here in Berlin. A Captain in the SD. He has however recently dropped out of sight, I had no idea where, until I followed up information I got from a contact. I was told about a secret program codenamed Reich Knights, I believe this is an answer in kind to the cooperation you and your friends engaged in – the Justice Society."

"Both of the Von Gunther's are involved?" Wonder Woman asked.

He nodded. "It appears so.

"Look this means there is - or at least there will be - a group of metahumans called the Riech Knights headed by Wotan."

Wonder Woman folded her arms. "That comes as no surprise, there are many beings of power in the Earth, both new and old, some will be loyal to this Hitler."

"Wait!" he said again as she tried to leave.

"What is it Steven Trevor?"

Steve's expression sank, he hoped he did not sound desperate. Hell, he thought, I am desperate, this is desperate situation.

"Be careful beautiful. Wotan is out there somewhere – this is his country and he has already defeated Superman."

"I am not Superman. I am an Amazon." Wonder Woman replied. This time she leapt through his open window into the night.

-'S'-

Clark Kent dug his hands into his pockets, the sun was setting over the Mediterranean sea and before him the busy picturesque harbour of the Port of Marseilles, in the south of France. Sail boats and trawlers bobbed on the water, and the harbour front bars and cafe's buzzed with trade, the war had brought many people to this beautiful and historic city.

He and Lois Lane were de facto guests of the Vichy French Government, a puppet regime of the German occupation, American neutrality gave them limited freedom of movement.

It had seemed a good idea to Lois at the time. She and Clark disembarked in Lisbon, glad to be free of the wounded freighter. He had found a place for them to grab a bite to eat .

"Always a must with you Kent." Lois had told him, "You have the appetite of an elephant." They had relished the fresh sea food the region was famed for, and in doing so they had met a group of American's waiting for imminent arrival of the SS Washington, and evacuation.

Talking with them Lois had stumbled on a tale of adventure and subterfuge. Clark had tried to stop her but she had been determined. He had relented.

"You're not going alone." He had insisted.

Overland they had crossed into France making their way to the Mediterranean coast. There Lois had met with a contact from her time in French Capital.

Clark returned to the bistro where the women were waiting.

"Hello Mary." He said, sitting down beside Lois.

Mary Jayne Gold was a beautiful socialite who had enjoyed the high society night life of both London and Paris. She smiled at him and poured him a glass of red wine.

"It's a lovely night." She said raising her glass for a toast. Lois joined her, Clark belatedly raised his, allowing a goofy smile to cross his face. His eyes searched the surrounding area, his ears listening. Mary Jayne was a dark haired beauty, she wore clothes well.

"Honestly darling I have enjoyed myself immensely." She told him about her chic apartment in Paris, the endless round of parties, nearly ten years away from America.

"Then war came, and I retreated into the arms of the considerable charms of Marseilles." She confessed. Her voice became conspiratorial. "Frankly I tried, unsuccessfully mind you to bring darling Peterkin with me." She turned to Lois. "You would have loved him he was a darling little boy, just two years old."

"What happened?" Asked Lois. Clark recognised that look, she clearly sensed a story.

"He was a child of my dear friends – Daniel and Theo Bénédite, they hoped I might rescue him and take him to America, but without papers this proved impossible." Mary Jayne explained. Behind the haute couture exterior Clark saw there was a confidant and accomplished woman, one who had piloted her own plane around Europe.

Clark recognised the story too, the Reporter in him appreciated the human interest angle, the story of wealthy beautiful American lady risking Nazi wrath for trying to save a two year old child.

"Do you Ski?" Mary Jayne asked him. He shook his head.

"Oh you must try it." She told him, and began to recount her favourite resorts.

"I think we have company." Clark interrupted her.

Mary Jayne gave him a odd look, but he was correct.

The young Frenchman approached from the shadows.

Mary Jayne appeared to recognise him. "I am so sorry there is something I promised to do." She said as she got up to leave.

Clark's superhuman vision checked over the newcomer, Gold's demeanour seemed a little off to him, her heart rate had begun to race.

"Oh darling who is this delightful young man?" Lois asked. Clark considered the possibility Gold might be romantically involved with this man, but he felt there something else going on.

Clark saw that Lois was not going to let this story get away so easily.

Mary Jayne Gold seemed to grasp this fact too, she introduced her friend. "Mr Kent, Miss Lane, of the Metropolis Daily Star, please meet Monsieur Raymond Couraud. Although I call him Killer, because he mercilessly murders the English Language." Clark grabbed the wine bottle. "How did you find Norway?" He asked Couraud. Pouring the Frenchman a glass of the local vintage. "You were there with the Foreign Legion as I recall?"

"You were there Monsieur?" Raymond asked surprised. The Legionnaire spoke with a tortured accent. Lois pulled a face, she clearly wasn't sure about the charismatic Raymond Couraud, Clark decided, and he found that knowledge satisfying, but Raymond's nickname was more than appropriate – Mary Jayne was right, he murdered the English language.

"I was attached to the British Expeditionary Force in Norway, until I was injured." Clark replied with his cover story. "You were at the Battles of Narvick, where you won the Croix de Guerre with palm, if I am not mistaken?"

"You are remarkably well informed Mr Kent." Mary Jayne noted coolly.

"For a guy who has to wear glasses Clark sees a lot." Lois said with a grin. Her joke at Clark's expense lightening the mood.

"Perhaps these are people we can trust?" The French Legionnaire asked his American friend.

Mary Jayne nodded. "I was sure of Lois."

"Thanks." Lane said with a tip of her glass.

"If Monsieur Kent was in Norway with the British, then he is Okay – non?" Raymond ventured.

Mary Jayne laughed. "Oh I am sure he is, why the hell not . Let's go for a walk down to the Harbour." She said definitely, getting up. Taking Raymond's arm.

Clark felt Lois take his, they walked two couples taking an evening stroll.

"Look Killer." Mary Jayne said. "I'm all for this, but I need to know this guy isn't pulling a fast one."

"I don't know what you mean?" Raymond replied, as they walked arm in arm.

"I don't want to pay over the odds for this boat." Mary Jane told him.

Clark watched them together. Mary Jayne clearly had a soft spot for the rakish Frenchman and she had the francs to spend, and as he glanced into Lois's violet eyes and he understood.

Couraud seemed to eventually grasp Mary Jaynes meaning. "It's a fair price." He told her. "It has to carry me and the others – douze – twelve to Gibraltar."

In due course they arrived at the trawler in question. Clark thought the old fishing boat looked like it wouldn't make it across the bay, never mind around the Iberian peninsula, but he understood Raymond 'Killer 'Couraud. He and his fellow Legionnaires didn't want to surrender, they wanted to join the British forces there – to continue the fight to liberate France.

"Alright." Mary Jayne said, apparently relenting. "Let's do this Killer."

From the bowels of the ship men emerged to discuss the deal, Clark glanced at them and saw concealed weapons, he saw tense faces and heard their adrenaline rush. He saw this was going to go wrong.

-'S'-

Beside her Lois felt Clark tense, his arm wrapped around her, and to her surprise the burly farm-boy moved between her and the dark. Protectively she realised. She found that she was not surprised when her Okie's instincts proved correct.

"Let us not do this, or anything like it." The French Military Police Officer showed his papers.

Couraud bolted, but was quickly tackled and brought down, by two officers disguised as crew. Raymond lay face down kicking and screaming profanities in French, having no respect for the collaborating officials of the Vichy.

"Captain." Mary Jayne began with a charming smile. "I was just helping a friend take a trip in a boat with a few pals – what's the harm?"

"Desertion Mademoiselle is not a matter the French Army takes lightly."

"Desertion?" Gold said with a gasp. She is a good actress at least Lois thought.

"Monsieur Couroud is a Legionnaire, as I suspect are his as you say – pals."

"Really that is a surprise." Lois added.

"And you are?"

"Lois Lane, and this is my companion Clark Kent." She watched the young soldier being dragged away, and fought her anger doing her utmost to be charming. "We're good friends of Miss Gold, I knew her in Paris." She said.

"Perhaps so. Perhaps American Mademoiselle's hang around the docks of their American cities by night, and there often buy expensive gifts for boys on a whim - I don't know – but I think I will ask you to join me at my house for a little conversation."

-'S'-

"Baron August Von Gunther." Lex Luthor noted, he stroked the bald skin of his head just behind his ear in an absent minded gesture, that reminded him of his lost mane of red hair. "What is so special about you my friend?" Luthor asked. Reading the chart he held in his hand.

Luthor stood before the sedated the test subject. August Von Gunther lay on a hospital bed, in another wise deserted ward.

Lex noted this man satisfied the basic requirements, height, weight, and age fell within the parameters that he had set out, physically he also conformed to the Nazi ideal of a blue eyed – blond haired Aryan. " Miss Teschmacher." He continued. "What sins does Captain Von Gunther seek to absolve?"

Teschmacher was a model of Teutonic efficiency, and Nordic beauty, Lex was pleased by both, she was a valuable aide de camp and he was grateful for her wide eyed childish charm, which so often disarmed those Nazi officials whose impatient demands for results interrupted his work; Lex was not fooled by her however, within her pretty head lay a rapier like intellect.

"Ambition Sir." She replied, the tailored uniform in grey, fitted jacket, and pencil thin skin complimented her. Luthor gestured. "Elucidate."

"August Von Gunther was born a poor relation of a noble Austrian family, he seduced and then married his cousin gaining her lands, wealth and title, then prostituted her to gain leverage. Enlisting her into the Sicherheitsdienst, he sent his wife to America to exploit their family's extensive connections in industry and business to gain intelligence about the American war effort for the SD." Tessmacher referred to Von Gunther's file, flicking through the typed pages.

"I have met the Baroness Von Gunther." Luthor chuckled delighting in the surprise. "I am impressed she was able to perform so effectively under duress – to rise in stature in the SD." He thought of her visit accompanying SS Colonel's Wüst and Willigut, to the adjoining facility were the clone army was still maturing quickly, but not quickly enough to impress his Nazi pay masters.

"After Austria's incorporation in the Reich, August Von Gunther was quickly promoted through the Security Service's ranks to Captain largely on the basis of his wife's successes in America. He volunteered for the program as a way to regain favour once his duplicity was revealed - casting doubt on his wife's loyalty."

"No doubt that embarrassed many people, including our Agencies President, Herr Wüst." Luthor remembered the praise Wüst had lavished on the Baroness, how he had brought her to the meeting in Berlin and then onto his facility, sharing the Projects secrets with her.

"How was August manipulating his wife?" Luthor asked.

"The details are numerous." Eve Teschmacher replied. "But in short he held his own child captive, a daughter Gerta – threatened her safety, to ensure his wife's cooperation."

Luthor smiled. Teschmacher understood the value of brevity – of distilling the matter to the essential facts. "Excellent a sociopath, one able to manipulate another powerful personality to do his bidding - how interesting." He said as left the Baron's bedside, Eve followed him through the double swing doors into a second ward, which had been refitted as a laboratory. The strange marriage of industrial plumbing joined to the reptilian's living machinery was repeated left and right in ordered rows. Each example was an artificial womb that served as the Annunki maturation chamber, all had rapidly advanced the simple ball of cloned cells from embryo to baby in days rather than months, enabling Luthor to more quickly test the value of each adult donor to his program using the artificial twin the tanks created.

The Annunki with whom Luthor had developed a working relationship hovered over the silver mecurial machinery of one the right hand vats, Solateedoh was watching the dials intently.

"The foetus?" Luthor asked.

"It continues to thrive." The reptillian replied.

Luthor peered through the glass port into the pinkish liquid within. "The mutations have stabilised?"

The Annunki hissed the races affirmative. Luthor smiled. "Are you certain?"

Head feathers fluttered. "I am Luthor." Solateedoh sang. "I have pushed the maturation cycle to it's limits – and then beyond them. This infant should have perished, however each time it has recovered."

Luthor picked up the chart attached to the Maturation Tank. It read Baron August Von Gunther – clone 001. That in itself was remarkable. Most cloned embryo's failed, yet here the first attempt had succeeded. He tapped the typed reference with his finger, laughing quietly. "There is something unique in this subjects genetic make up. I think we should investigate the Von Gunthers further Miss Teschmacher." Luthor said, looking to his aide. "The wife remains active in the SD Sir." She said. "Since they are cousins she may share his uniqueness."

"As would their offspring." The Annunki stated.

Luthor looked at each of the other tanks in the ward each chart had been stamped not viable. Each had been a clone of a potential test subject. Of the men who had volunteered, only August Von Gunther's twin appeared able to withstand the process.

"It is regrettable but it is as I feared, the failure rate is very high." Luthor remembered the animal tests that had been carried out at Ultra Humanite's secret laboratory as they had searched in vain to duplicate Superman's powers, however stung by his rival's in Project Ahnenerbe SS successes, Luthor had revived this line of research, seeking a faster route to an Ubermesch soldier than even the accelerated growth the Annunki Maturation tanks afforded. An answer to Willigut's Wotan.

Solahteedoh hissed. "Had I not assisted you with our maturation technology it would not have been the clones of these test subjects that would have been killed, but the the test subjects themselves."

"Which was Willigut's problem." Luthor growled. "Until he hit lucky with Bastion; and still he complains that it is unfair that I have the first choice of Volunteers!"

"He could use prisoners." Solahteedoh observed.

Luthor laughed. "And create a superhuman undesirable? Never."

"Humans." Hissed Solahteedoh. Luthor suspected he thought them all equally undeserving, and of course he was right, but that was not the opinion of the Third Reich.

"Yet we have come far further than the Ultra Humanite." Luthor said. "We have a serum that mimics the American Superman's abilities, albeit this appears to only work with one test subject in particular."

"Even that is yet to be established." Solahteedoh snapped. "The adult human may react differently to the infant, and long term viability is unknown - as is the extent of the adult's abilities. I maintain that our clones of the American Superman are far more likely to be his equal."

"True." Luthor conceded. "But they are still months from maturity, and Willigut's Wotan is already here."

The head feathers of the Annunki vibrated. "Human politics!" Luthor knew the creature was laughing.

The reptilian continued. "I recommend we evacuate the clone from the tank now and run a battery of tests." The Annunki scientist suggested.

"Agreed." Lex said. "There is little point in letting it mature further. As a basis for comparison I will administer the serum to the adult test subject." Luthor said, turning to leave the reptilian to his work. Teschmacher followed him dutifully.

Luthor began the first of the series of injections that would begin the transformation of August Von Gunther.

"Let our Director Wüst know we may have identified a suitable subject for Colonel Willigut." He told her.

Eve looked at him questioningly.

"Give the Occultist the Von Gunther's wife, that should stop his whining about a lack of suitable Aryan test subjects – it strikes me she is the weak link in this family, but bring me their child – Gerta. She may prove useful."

-'S'-

Lois Lane looked at the American Passport in her hand, she hoped that their citizenship would be enough to see them released from custody. She watched Clark wordlessly pass his to the military police Captain, who shone his torch on the documents.

Lastly Mary Jayne Gold approached the officer. She lent close to him, and the two of them retired to engage in a private conversation, slipping into the dark shadows under a schooner.

Clark stood stoically beside Lois, but even in the partial light of the moon, Lois saw his face was becoming sterner moment by moment. Presently Gold returned to them,

"Let's go." Mary Jayne said. She quickly pushed their passports back in Lois's hand. She returned her papers to her purse, gave Clark his.

"You bribed the gendarmes?" Clark asked. No Lois thought, it was more a statement of fact masquerading as a question.

"We are free to go." Mary Jayne replied. Lois decided this amounted to a confirmation that money had changed hands.

"Thanks Mary Jayne." She said. Lois did not care if Clark was angry at the idea of the police accepting a bribe, she was just glad to be leaving their custody. It had already been a long night, and she needed coffee.

"What is going to happen to Raymond Courard?" Kent asked.

Mary Jayne looked uncertain. "He will have to answer to a military tribunal, I can't change that, he'll have to spend time in For Saint Nicolas."

Lois knew that to be the castle that overlooked the harbour of Marseilles.

"But they will hopefully treat him well, we're a long way from Paris." Mary Jayne said optimistically.

Later at Gold's rented house, she waited for Mary Jayne to join her in the kitchen.

It was here over coffee that Mary Jayne Gold explained her ideas to Lois.

"The Nazi regime is both oppressive and racist; the Vichy French Government is just a puppet of the Third Reich. People are afraid and they are hurting."

Lois could only agree. "There are so many refugees here in Marseilles."

Mary Jayne nodded. "And many more are here but in hiding, because they are Jewish, or have the wrong politics, these poor people are fearful for their liberty even their lives."

"You want to do something about this?" Lois asked her.

"You betcha lady I do." Mary Jayne said. "I'm thinking a latter day underground railway - freeing those who won't bow the knee to this self appointed Master Race."

Mary Jayne Gold found a natural ally in Lois Lane as they discussed Gold's idea.

-'S-

Clark Kent found it easy to excuse himself, ostensibly to explore the city and surrounding area, but practically to step into his Superman persona – to maintain a presence.

Superman rose over the French port of Marseilles, travelling north, he wished for the strength he had previously enjoyed, but he found the reality of war far more troubling than his inconsistent powers. His heart bled as he saw the oceans blue waters stained black with the poisonous slicks of spilled oil and broken lives. Crossing the Atlantic took time, but time he did not waste. Superman became the Sentinel of the Seas, plucking the wounded and lost from the water whenever he was able, but so vast was the ocean that he could not hope to intervene in every case, truthfully there was only so much even Superman could do – certainly if he was to keep his promise to FDR, to remain neutral – or at least unseen.

Superman was reminded of his days in Kansas, when he was the legendary invisible angel of the dust bowl. Where he could help democracies forces without being observed he did so, much like his President.

Then there was the battle over Britain.

Superman watched this conflict rage over the English channel, as war came to the skies of London and the home counties of the south of England, and it was becoming a brutal business.

Flying through the war zone Superman was not so much aware of his weakness but of his limitations, even Superman had only one pair of hands, and here still tied by neutrality. His palms itched for action, but he was aware how close he had come to death when he had overstepped his orders; when Wotan had come so close to finishing him.

Staring at the fabled white Cliffs of Dover, he scanned the coastline, and saw in the periphery of his vision the strange signature of microwave radiation.

Watching the approaching aircraft he saw waves distort, rebounding back to shore, back to tall receivers. Suddenly this pattern made sense, the British were detecting the invading planes, and responding to them, directing their air power where it was needed, making the most of their numbers, and hitting the enemy harder as a result.

If the Nazi's knew of this defensive technology they clearly did not understand it's effectiveness. They were ignoring the broadcast and reception antenna.

Above him the machine guns of Hawker Hurricane barked, the workhorse of the Royal Air Force, turned hard it's pilot chasing the faster climbing Luftwaffe's Messerschmitt 109, he tucked around turning sharply trying to get a good angle on the opposing fighter. A second Luftwaffe's plane bore down on the Brit, Superman forgetting his neutrality in that moment, equalled the odds in a flash of blue and red he punched the engine of the German fighter, the 109 lost power - it was out of the fight.

-'S'-

Winston Churchill sat in his office, it was the first business of the day, with him was the head of Secret Intelligence Service – SIS, Major General Stewart Menzies. The spy chief had delivered a buff coloured locked box to the Prime Minister, personally – as was often the case. Churchill extended his key and opened the locked vintage box marked with VRI from Victoria's reign. Number 10 Downing Street's staff were baffled by these mysterious deliveries, but to Churchill these were his "golden eggs".

Every morning he reviewed the intelligence reports, devouring the details of the transcripts of the intercepted coded Nazi orders, broken by the boffins of Bletchley Park's code breaking lab and sent directly to the Prime Minister.

Churchill shifted the papers. "I see there is chatter about these mysterious 'foo fighters' from the Germans as well as own boys."

"Gremlins Prime Minister. They get credit too."

"But we know there are strange things in the skies C." Churchill called the head of SIS, C, sometimes Stewart, and occasionally General when he was angry.

"The Shining Knight is deployed at Buckingham Palace. We know his interception of enemy fighters and bombers directed at the King give rise to a lot of this chatter."

The PM smiled, C had understood him, the rise of the metahumans was something that interested the intelligence agencies of all the world's powers. The Shining Knight was been taken care of by SIS, who had enlisted his loyalty to King and Country while helping him adapt to modern life.

"If only we had more like him." Churchill lamented. Privately wondering what untapped abilities existed in his people, and their allies.

"We may have help." Menzies suggested. "There is activity over the channel of another kind – red and blue kind."

"I'm sure Superman would do more if he could." The PM drank a glass of water with a splash of whisky, his usual tipple.

"Rooselvelt can't be seen to risk breaking the Neutrality Act, certainly not before November's election." Menzies agreed. "Superman is a too high profile, even if he remains a legendary figure to many Americans - the symbolic effect of his public involvement could impact Roosevelt's chances of another term."

Churchill could only agree with C's conclusion. "However isolated our position is at this time, however frustrated this makes feel, however unfair this fight, we must remember Roosevelt is our best friend, a different President might not be.

"Which means we must put on a good show for the President's man – his legs - Bill Donovan." The PM directed. "We must give him the full red carpet welcome when he arrives today, impress him of our will and resolution, put flight to the nonsense that we are out of the fight."

"Of course Prime Minister."  
"And tell Sir Justin to watch out for our red and blue friend, lest that assassin Wotan tries to kill him again, perhaps together they can achieve what one alone cannot."

-'S'-

Baroness Paula von Gunther wanted to struggle against the bands that held her, but she could not, against the hardness of the metal frame they held her immobile. The leather straps had been pulled tight in a binding series from head to toe.

Willigut a grey demon in the light and shadows of the flickering apparatus hovered at the periphery of her vision, haunting her. Walther Wüst, President of the Research Institute of the Ahnenerbe SS in his black uniform stared at at her directly, his eyes stern taunting her. Wüst looked up at her near crucifixion bound as she was to Willigut's unearthly apparatus.

"Do you regret volunteering for these experiments Baroness?" Wüst asked her

Paula wanted to cry – she wanted to laugh; volunteer! What choice had she? Her thoughts became a torrent of self hate and loathing.

A bead of sweat ran from her forehead.

Wüst continued to taunt, his voice ran flat controlled, he was deliberate. It was as if her answer did not matter to him.

"I regret nothing. I am glad to work for Fatherland."

Wüst laughed. "Come Come Baroness your real agenda is known to me – the SS knows these things. I know about Gerta. I know how the Baron used your daughter to.. shall I say... persuade you to embrace espionage on his behalf."

Paula tensed the SS knew her secret, her shame, but she replied with determination. "I work for the Fatherland!" Anything less than unwaveringly loyalty was a death sentence for her, and for her darling Gerta, August was a monster who she did not doubt, not for a moment, he would kill Gerta if she failed him.

"Austrian nobility? More a puffed up arrogant whore - you are your husbands puppet!" Wüst shouted back, his spittle landed on her face.

"He married me for my title." Paula spat. "For position, power!" Through clenched teeth she hissed, she was discovered, exposed, her shame laid bare, seduced by her cousin, a manipulator extraordinary, she years his junior, a slip of girl her head turned, self consumed, believing in the fairy tale of romantic love, love August could so easily mimic, but never feel for anyone but himself. First pregnancy, the need to wed quickly, and the contract sealed, only then did she glimpse the darkness in the heart of her lover; by then it was too late, she was trapped.

Coldly Wüst said. "The Baron has Gerta, he has her hidden from you, and so you whore yourself for his advancement."

Tears began to well in her eyes. "Damn you."

"I know why you agreed to this Paula." Wüst told her. "You imagined yourself empowered with Wotan's abilities didn't you?

"You imagined yourself taking back your daughter and probably executing some painful revenge upon your husband. Perhaps even returning to America?"

Paula looked away from the black skulls head uniform. She heard the SS Colonel bark. "Lord Wotan!"

Unwillingly as terror consumed her she saw the creature crackle into existence, returning to the place of his birth. Wotan looked past the man who had summoned him, not acknowledging Wüst, but instead the green skinned sorcerer's dark eyes stared into hers.

Raising his hand the Dark god released his tongue. "Spirits of the battlefield, maids of bloodshed, angels of Valhalla heed my call once more, come forth from the land East of the Sun, and West of the Moon, come to my call angels of Wotan, come to your god, let your vengeance unite, let your rage take form, clothe yourself in flesh be as one soul, one spirit – come my Valkyrie!"

Beyond the hidden chamber high in the air above the triangular castle blue skies darken, as with lightening and crashing thunder the Valkyrie horde descends. Summoned by Wotan's call, a frothing smoking cloud of insubstantial shades forms, crackling with writhing electrical snakes.

A banshee wail falls upon Castle Wewelsburg blowing through the building as an unnatural wind. The torment of swirling cloud becomes a single twisting tornado, the faces and forms of the ghosts within wound into individual threads, spun together into a single cord as the wind turns, cracking like a ghostly whip into the heart of Castle, snapping to the centre, to where Paula Von Gunther hangs, like Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, the mystical energy pours into her body which strains against it bindings as if shocked by electricity, twitching as the silver cord spun by the storm works it way inside of her.

Then silence.

Paula stirs, her mind races, filled with a thousand voices, with their memories of war, of battlefields stretching across the ages. She is lost among them, she falls among the slain, lies in the bloody mud among the corpses. A lone voice in her own mind, a lost soul wandering among the dead, from the sands of Sumer, by the armies of Alexander, and Genghis Kahn on through the trenches of the Great War, Paula wanders searching for something, someone, always searching.

Her body burns enveloped but not consumed by arcing electrical fire. From this confluence a single ghost emerges.

A woman with her face, her features, her beauty; but her hair is like silver fire, her clothes are an armour that sparks red like a hot coal. She snaps the straps that hold her like they are paper. About her wrists are black vambraces, a bodice of coal black steel grips her feminine shape. She bows her knee. "My Lord Wotan, your Dark Angel Valkyrie is forever your servant."

-'S'-


	56. Chapter 56

In geostationary orbit above the Earth an artificial satellite hung hidden from view, camouflaged from human eyes, an alien technology, the device had been dormant for centuries. Then on the European Continent a tell tale signature was detected. Dormant systems engaged. Program parameters were consulted, the calculation engaged a subroutine, a command to seek definitive confirmation. The alien Probe waited.

-'S'-

Steve Trevor and Jim Blake skirted the perimeter of the Citadel's installation. The main complex had been surrounded by other less substantial buildings, in recent days temporary structures had been erected, and both the rail head and road traffic had increased. The two shabbily dressed American Agents wore civilian clothes, dark brown coats, over work worn trousers. Blake carried a pair of rabbits he had snared, they looked like a couple of friends out in the countryside looking to get some meat for their table. Trevor reasoned this should be a plausible cover for the field glasses he carried too. That said he had no intention on being caught to put this story to the test, if it failed he reckoned he and Blake would disappear, a quick death would be the best they could hope for.

Trevor looked at the Citadel through the binoculars. The Germans had hung camouflage netting from the edges of the concrete rim to mask the fact that the complexes superstructure was really floating – he estimated about eight feet clear of the ground, most of the substructure was still hidden in the hole below. The two spies visual assessment of the situation more than confirmed Wonder Woman's report. Now they observed the Nazi installation as the Third Reich rapidly equipped the Citadel with both arms and men.

Steve felt certain something was going was happen and soon.

-'S'-

Anton Hastor climbed the metal steps that reached from ground level to the edge of the concrete deck of the newly designated Citadel Lutftwaffe.

Hastor was elated by his success. This is all my work he thought, my personal triumph. The Fuhrer will notice my worth now I have tamed the Annunki's gravitational engine's power. Hastor imagined the ancient reptilian race's anger at his presumption, but he did not care, they were not his concern. Yet their technology would make his own plans easier to achieve.

Agent Zytal greeted him as he stepped onto the Citadel.

"Doctor Hastor, it is good to see you. I have great expectations for a successful test flight today."

The red haired youth possessed a remarkable intellect. During his brief stay in Berlin Hastor had been given access to agent Zytal's file he now understood the peculiar details of his secret origin.

Zytal-Luthor was a clone of an American scientific genius, a young man called Lex Luthor. Cloning was another product of borrowed technology.

Hastor had been briefed on the importance of this American defector to Project Ahnenerbe SS. Frankly Anton Hastor resented it. He had been beaten to the punch, Luthor had been recruited before him.

Hastor respected Luthor's genius however and he quickly decided that Luthor – the real Luthor was too dangerous to deal with directly – at least for now. Befriended certainly, as Sun Tzu had said – Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Hastor had no such reservations about the clone. Agent Zytal was in reality only a few months old, and his entire life had been spent working on the flying disc project for the Luftwaffe. Zytal-Luthor was in Hastor's estimation a more malleable asset, and a window into the mind of the original genius of which he was a copy.

Hastor shook the younger man's hand.

"And I too hope for a great day, I am sure it will be – for us both, and for the Third Reich."

Developmentally Hastor put Zytal in his late teens, no older than many who served in the German Army. Zytal's unquestionable intellect was according to his file in Berlin a product of experimentation. The Annunki could educate clones during the accelerated growth phase. The Reptillians had also learned how to trigger genetic memories which could give the clone much of the experience and knowledge of the donor subject. This had been done successfully in the case of Zytal.

"Doctor Hastor how was Berlin?" Zytal asked him.

"It was a pleasant jaunt, but I am eager to begin here."

In truth Hastor's improved standing in the eyes of his Nazi pay masters was not without its limits, and too his irritation, much of Luthor's research remained classified. Such was the nature of the Riech's instinctive secrecy. He however had gleamed enough from Agent Zytal's file to determine that Luthor was trying to master the process of cloning, to manipulate both the physical and mental consequences of the Annunki's growth acceleration.

"We should begin." He told Zytal.

The two men walked across to the Citadel's main building. Hastor's aides followed them. These young men were of middle eastern extraction, tall and heavily built. Together they carried with a trunk between them, each taking one end of the locked box.

"Reich Marshall Göring has approved more funds, men and materials for our project, providing today's principal test goes well." Hastor explained.

"I have absolute confidence in the numbers." Zytal's assured him.

Hastor nodded. He harboured no doubts. "Have the candidates arrived?"

"Yes, they are already here."

"Good." Hastor smiled everything was coming together. "I hope these volunteers prove to be suitable." He saw the puzzled expression on the younger man's face. "I will explain my other project to you in due course." Hastor told Zytal. He liked the idea he too had his own secrets.

He had explained to Colonel Walther Wüst, the President of the Research Institute of the Ahnenerbe SS the properties of Nth Metal could only be utilised by people of the right calibre, and that he would have to test volunteers to assess their compatibility.

Wüst saw a natural fit between the gravity defying power of Nth metal and the Luftwaffe's ongoing research into the Annunki's flying disc technology. Hence Wüst had introduced Hastor to Agent Zytal.

Today's test offered the opportunity he needed to quickly assess the candidates who had been assigned to him, again success begot success.

Now within the complex the two scientists, descended into the main chamber where the stripped down flying disc was secured to the Citadel's superstructure.

The Annunki gravitational engine hummed, its radiations safely neutralised by the paper thin foil skin of Nth Metal that Hastor had provided.

Hastor's aides placed the locked metal travelling chest on the floor of the laboratory, and the two burly Arabs stood over it, taking up positions either side as watchmen.

Hastor turned to Zytal who was staring at the box questioningly.

"All will be revealed shortly." He told the red haired youth.

"Very good Doctor, I look forward to your further revelations." Zytal bowed ever so slightly, acknowledging Hastor's supremacy in this.

This pleased him. He stroked his beard saying. "Please ask the candidates to join me in here."

Zytal replied. "Certainly." delegating this task to one of the technicians who stood close by. Zytal looked to his watch. "I will commence the count down for ten hundred hours as agreed."

Hastor smiled. "Of course. Sound the alarm so our people are ready for the test."

-'S'-

Steve Trevor checked his watch. It was almost ten in the morning. He looked back at the Citadel. The activity in an around the complex became frenzied. Whatever the German forces had been preparing for was about to begin. He observed white coated technicians leaving the hovering building, filing out in an orderly manner and descending to the ground. Others were embarking.

Lastly the metal steps were wheeled clear of the Citadel. Then there was a siren followed by an erie silence. Slowly at first the Citadel began rise vertically, incrementally gaining speed. Blake gripped his arm, the huge edifice of steel and concrete moved higher and higher, shrinking as the distance grew between the ground and the flying fortress.

"Damn." Trevor whispered. "This is bad – really bad."

-'S'-

Aboard the Citadel Zytal monitored the hastily installed instrumentation, the altimeter measured there steady progress into the atmosphere, the power flow from the Annunki engine increasing steadily to a predetermined setting. Around the Citadel men stood observing the buildings superstructure, checking it's integrity.

Test showed that a Nth metal energy field encompassed the building, radiating along the steel skeleton, that was connected directly to the flying disc's chassis and in turn it's motor. The bubble of Nth energy maintained the Citadel's integrity.

Simply the energy field was being generated by the Nth metal provided by Anton Hastor, the lift by the Annunki motor.

Zytal looked across to where his colleague was. Hastor stood close to the well, he had ordered the candidates to stand perfectly still, each one a loyal member of the party had obeyed. Hastor stood them in a circle at the edge of chamber that contained the Annunki engine. Zytal counted twenty men and women in equal number, and the volunteers wore next to no clothing, just a vest and shorts, as if they were expected to perform rigorous exercise. Now as the gravitational motor worked in and through the Nth Metal the Doctor was walking around the ring of candidates observing each one of them as if he was looking for some tell tale sign.

Inevitably as the citadel climbed the air temperature dropped, Zytal noted his breath misting in the cooling air.

Hastor occasionally tapped one of the candidates on the shoulder, the selected individual would step back and leave their place in the circle. He always made his choices one sex and then the other in succession; first assessment, then a pair would be chosen, and cut from the circle. Initially his choices were rapid, but as the numbers declined to eight, four men and four women, he took longer in his deliberations.

It was now getting noticeably colder, and as Zytal drew his coat around himself, he felt pity for them, dressed only in gym clothes, exposed to the frigid air. Those candidates Hastor rejected were allowed to gather up woollen blankets and leave the laboratory in search of warmth.

Zytal checked his watch, the test was scheduled as a twenty minute ascent followed by a twenty minute hover at the predetermined altitude of twenty thousand feet, and then the remainder of the hour was designated descent, when the output of the Annunki motor would be dialled back returning the citadel to it's original resting place. He smiled, there was a nice symmetry about those numbers.

Zytal attended the controls while he watched his colleague whittle down the candidates. Zytal decided upon the method in Hastor's experiment; the test must be related to the power generated by the Nth Metal, and the volunteers were being judged on their reaction to this energy field.

Suddenly the answer struck him, it was the cold! Hastor was watching for the slightest signs of discomfort, perhaps a shiver, even goosebumps on the skin, or any discolouration. The remaining couples had not reacted to the plunging temperature.

Zytal watched the time, the last phase of the test was about to begin, and Hastor now made the final cut, leaving just two people with him beside the pit.

Zytal acted, flicking the switch that would dial back the Annunki motor, and the distant hum changed as the citadel's gradual descent back to ground began.

At the well side Hastor gestured to the chosen volunteers to follow him, back up to where Zytal controlled the Citadel.

"Hold our position once we descend to three kilometres." Hastor instructed him,

Zytal accepted the other man's command even though it contradicted the agreed test schedule. He was interested to see what Hastor would do next.

Zytal watched the altimeter. Since the descent was marked by a controlled deceleration they would reach the half way point in around five minutes.

Hastor indicated to his aides, and the burly Arabs opened the trunk they had brought with them.

Hastor reached inside, and brought forth two silvery cloaks one in each hand. Zytal glanced from his instruments and back to Hastor, the material was metallic, made up of individual scales. Zytal looked again, no he decided, not scales but even finer still, these were feathers, each moving as if forged individually.

Zytal pondered this. Could these be Nth metal constructs? If so had Hastor brought with him artefacts of power - Weapons of Magical Domination?

"For you Fanz Hack." Hastor said passing the first cloak to the man.

"And for you Fräulein Kaethe Egger." She took from Hastor the second.

"You know what to do." Hastor told them. "As we rehearsed."

The two volunteers nodded. Together they took hold of the leather straps that were attached to the metal cloaks, and fastened them around their torso's. The belts crossed and like a safety harness were held in place my a central locking clasp, finally a third belt was buckled in place around the waist. Zytal observed that the harnesses fit the chosen candidates perfectly, tallying with something else he had noticed, all the men and women had been of equal proportions – at least in terms of their torso's. He concluded the candidates had been chosen because they were a physical match for these existing harnesses.

Initially the silvery material hung lifeless across their backs, falling to the ground, but as they adjusted the final clasp about their middle, the material flickered taking shape and form. The Metal cloaks became wings.

"Excellent." Hastor smiled. "The Nth Metal reacts properly to you, you will be able to make use of it's abilities.

Zytal was intrigued, so Hastor did have more Nth Metal, and this was at least a partial answer to that troubling question. The Nth metal sword Hastor had used to create the foil that wrapped the Annunki motor, had been crudely made, but these cloaks – no wings, he corrected himself, had been forged with a precision of a true artist.

From the trunk Hastor presented the Nazi agents a dark black Helmet, crafted again by a skilled hand to resemble a bird of prey. "Here are your helms 'Eagles of Third Reich'." He told them with a theatrical flourish.

"We are at three kilometres." Zytal told Hastor. He flicked the switch to arrest the steady decline of power and the descent of the citadel.

Hastor turned to the Reich Eagles. "Reich Knights the time has come to spread your wings."

Zytal watched as Hastor led the newly created Riech Eagles from the laboratory.

-'S'-

The Justice Society of America met in New York at the home of Carter Hall. Superman took his seat. Hawk Man had installed a round table, around which the members of the Justice Society could meet.

"You have a fine home." He told the blonde haired archaeologist. Carter's wings were draped across his back in such a way they ceased to resemble wings at all, but rather a cape almost like his own. Hawk Man chose to forgo his distinctive beaked helmet, and this rested beside him. Otherwise he had been in costume when Superman had arrived.

"Thank you." Hall replied. "There are advantages to remembering past lives." Superman considered the idea.

"Such as inheriting your own possessions?" He asked, drawing conclusions from the wealth of antiques and artefacts that decorated the house.

Carter Hall chuckled. "I think of it more as working things out by trial and error, or maybe I should say, how to learn from past mistakes. "

Hawk Girl joined them shortly followed by Wonder Woman.

The two women were bonded, Superman could see it in their easy manner. He judged them to be friends as comrades at arms, both were in costume.

Clearly this seemed the appropriate way to dress to them all.

Superman found his eyes lingered on Diana's classically perfect features, she was an artist vision given life. Very different to Lois, who was for all her feisty verve, in his hands, a slight china doll. Especially compared to the Amazon, who was tall enough to look him in the eye, whose body was like that of athlete or a dancer; a warrior Superman reflected, from a race of warriors. Yet she was at the same time regal, and refined, yet very capable of getting her hands dirty. She was a Princess, and a fighter, she exhibited a innate compassion that was genuine and warm. Diana's innocence was both enchanting and disarming, altogether childlike she was completely oblivious to the feral power of her own sexuality.

Lois on the other hand was accomplished and confident in her womanhood, she understood her powers and used them. In this way she more compelling to a young man from Kansas, even though the flawless Amazon stood head and shoulders above the girl reporter, Superman was still the sum of his experiences.

On the stroke of the hour the Flash appeared his broad smile telling them all he had timed his arrival to the second. "The Green Lantern sends his apologies." Jay Garrick told his colleagues. "Alan is tracking a beast of a man, he says he's not sure it's really alive."

"Yes I have heard of this destructive Metahuman." Carter Hall said. "I believe he has taken the name Soloman Grundy after the nursery rhyme character." The Flash nodded.

Superman looked across at Diana. They should begin.

Wonder Woman's ebony hair fell across her shoulders, the warmth from her blue eyes was almost maternal. The Amazons were in a way a religious sisterhood, indeed if the Jesuit Priests or the Shaolin Buddhist monks had a female equivalent it was the Amazons.

"Diana asked us to convene." He said inviting her to take the chair.

Wonder Woman began. "Friends we now know the Germans have acquired the ancient secret of Nth Metal."

"Yes." Shiera said. She spoke with such disdain that Superman suspected Hawk Girl felt violated by the Nazi's knowledge. He understood. Hadn't his own birth heritage been despoiled by creation of K-Metal and the crystalline form, Kryptonite? He felt that way about the damnable green poison from the start, and even more now Wotan carried it's power through magic.

Shiera her hands making fists said. "Diana you told us how you saw with your own eyes some kind of Nazi fortress float in Nth suspension."

Wonder Woman brought to the table a brown manilla file and slid out a series of images. "This man has been seen coming and going from the complex."

Hawk Man glanced down and frowned so deeply that Superman thought him enraged, fit to burst. Carter angrily pushed the picture across to his fiancé.

Shiera gasped. "Hath Set! How can it be, I thought he was dead again."

"Who?" The Flash asked.

Carter Hall spoke coldly. "In this life he was – rather still is, an American, called Anton Hastor, a respected expert in the fields of Electricity and Magnetism, but known to us by another name, his ancient Egyptian name, Hath Set. He was an Occultist and Priest." Hawk Man pointed to the dark haired bearded man. "Both I and Shiera have died at his hand more than once."

"Ahh." Jay responded. "The whole reincarnation thing."

Superman understood the Flash's reticence – reincarnation was something that sat outside of his mother's simple Methodism, but he had been studying the concept since encountering the Hawks.

"So that explains how the Nazi's gained access to the secret of Nth Metal." He concluded. "Hath Set, like you possesses memories from previous lives."

"Yes." Shiera confirmed. "That is the case, unfortunately."

"And it also explains this." Diana pushed another photograph toward the Hawks.

"Damn." Carter said. "Nth Metal Wings."

Superman saw the figures in the air, his vision powers centred on the photograph and resolution of film allowed him to examine the image closely. A man and a woman were wearing wings in flight, close to the Nazi Citadel, the fortress was floating high above the ground.

"How many of these wing apparatus exist? He asked.

"We didn't know Hath Set had these!" Shiera said. "I mean Nth Metal is so very rare - rare to the extent we believed Carter and I possessed an unique pair."

"And we're frankly very unhappy to be proved wrong, unfortunately memory is not always perfect, especially memories that come from the distant past." Carter Hall stated.

Diana crossed her hands over the file. "The latest information I received indicates that Reich Marshall Göring has adopted the Citadel as a vanity project and has thrown his considerable weight behind seeing the fortress equipped with heavy weapons, even massive naval guns. It appears load is no longer a constraint."

"That isn't the case – or shouldn't be at least." Carter Hall said. "With Nth Metal, as Shiera and I know from experience there is an upper limit to the weight that we can lift or at least cancel out using Nth metal."

"What are you saying?" Superman asked.

Hawk Man said. "Either there is an unparalleled quantity of Nth Metal in the hands of Nazi's or more likely there has to be something else providing lift to make something like this fly."

Superman's eyes narrowed – remembering the Nazi's secret allies, he had his suspicions. He said. "I propose we send a team to investigate. I'll inform Alsos via Colonel Lane that we are going to undertake an operation. Since Hath Set or rather Anton Hastor is an American, I think we have an obligation given Alsos's remit to find out how this fortress is flying."

"Who should go?" Flash asked. "I'm happy to volunteer, but I would be the first to admit I'm not much of a flyer."

Superman saw Garrick's point. "I think it should be the Hawks, Diana and myself."

"And I'll keep the home fires burning." Jay said cheerfully.

Superman said. "The Green Lantern may yet need help, and the fifth column is still active." There was now doubt in his mind that the scarlet speedster's role at home was an essential one. Superman wanted Jay to understand that too.

"I have my Plane hovering above." Diana said. She got to her feet. "Let us not waste time."

-'S'-

Baron August Von Gunther awoke from his stupor, his mind was confused full of hauntingly real images that lingered from his vivid dreams.

He breathed long and slow, vaguely aware that the world appeared tinged with a green hue.

"The subject is responsive." Eve Teschmacher told her boss.

Lex Luthor leaned over the Baron, and shone a pencil torch into his eyes. August blinked. His senses seemed to overwhelm him. So much noise, so much information.

"Dial back the Green Light." Luthor told his assistant. "Setting three."

The greenish tinge that enveloped the bed faded, but remained.

"August?" Luthor asked.

Extending his arm the Baron reached out towards the scientist, his limbs felt heavy, and he ached,which made him wonder, have I been racked by fever? Blinking August stared in disbelief a his own arm, it could not be his, and yet this thing moved as he willed it. His flesh was a grey armour that covered him like a second skin. August brought his hands together, his palms were white as snow, but their surface was steel grey, a bony hard skin through which he could feel his own touch. August grabbed his own forearm and found it thick and muscled, hard as stone. There was something else, something silvery and fine, like metal vines wrapped around each of his wrists, woven into bracelets. Gasping in surprise and disbelief, August touched his face and felt the same tough and unyielding surface like warm iron.

"What have you done to me?" He demanded, rising from the bed. Struggling to do so, he twisted and his feet almost fell to the floor, growling he dragged himself upright.

"Luthor! Damn you to Hell. What have you done to me?" He stumbled forward towards the scientist.

His first step took all of his effort, then his second came easier.

Luthor's assistant looked to her boss, she moved to the box whose weak green light washed over his bed. Luthor raised his hand to her. "No Miss Teschmacher."

August felt stronger, and he reached out to Luthor but before he could touch the scientist a terrible pain engulfed him, agony from deep within causing him to collapse to his knees, striking the ground he heard the hollow thud of his unnaturally hard armoured skin contacting the floor, that did not hurt him, the pain was entirely from within.

Luthor released him, August saw it, a movement of the hand against the scientists own wrist. "I possess a device, one connected to you – wired into the meat of you. I can bring you to your knees, shock you into unconscious and even end your life with nothing more that flick of a switch.

"I am telling you this, because I want you to understand that I am in control – always."

"Damn you – you bastard."

Luthor laughed long and hard. "Now Baron I will explain what has been done to you, what you volunteered for."

August would have frowned but his face was hard mask of bone, instead he growled in frustration. Yes the American was right, he had 'volunteered.' He had been given little choice, death or this. August looked at himself, covered from head to toe in grey armour, and he believed death would have been better, and he cursed his cowardice, and his ambition.

"You have been empowered beyond your wildest dreams Baron." Luthor told him. "This hardened skin can withstand bullets, nothing but heavy ordinance will affect you, your strength is multiplied many times, your senses heightened, you are no longer a mere man."  
"If not a man, what am I?"

Luthor sniffed disdainfully. "What use is man? Can a man best a tank?

"That is what you are my good Baron. Just as the Mechanised Infantry can travel faster and hit harder than army of foot soldiers, so you outstrip all men. Why you are Blitzkrieg personified."

"Is that what I am to be – living Blitzkrieg?" August roared.

"Baron Blitzkrieg." Luthor said. "Don't you think that has a certain ring to it Miss Teschmarcher?"

"Yes sir." His aide responded with her delicate tones.

Baron Blitzkrieg hammered the wall of the bunker in frustration. The building shakes, dust falls, and the wall cracks, jagged splinters zig-zag from the epicentre of his strike.

"Mien Gott!"

"I think he looks quite noble, like a Teutonic Knight – don't you agree Miss Teschmarcher?"

"Yes Sir. Very much like a Knight."

"See my good Baron you are an inspiration! Men like you will win this war."

August looked at his fist, he felt an alien strength within him, and as he contemplated the possibilities of his new found powers he decided his fate was not as terrible as it first seemed. "I will need a uniform befitting my rank." He told Luthor.

"It shall be done, my good Baron. It shall be done."

-'S'-

Wonder Woman, Superman, and the Hawks sat in Diana's invisible plane. The twin engined enigma powered it's way out into the Atlantic and towards Bermuda. "Why are we taking this route?" The Man of Steel asked.

Diana looked across at the handsome man beside her, leaning back in the co-pilot's seat, his nonchalance an illusion, she saw him search the skies around them.

Diana knew that he was everything a woman in Patriarchs world would have desired, but that desire, that kind of passion was something Diana had not experienced, and she did not understand it, and yet so much of the culture of this world was dedicated to it.

"Believe or not Kal this is a short cut." Diana replied.

"Diana, if it were any one else who told me that, I wouldn't believe them."

"But you believe me?"

"You are an avatar of truth or so your sisters told me."

"I am blessed by Hestia's illuminating fire." She tapped her Lasso. "So yes that's true - I would never lie to you Kal."

"Nor I you."

"Can I believe that – truth from a man?" She found herself laughing quietly at him. Teasing him.

Superman frowned, again so quickly another being would miss it. "I was raised that way."

"The Amazons were betrayed by Heracles, who was incited by Ares to rape them and conquer the city of Themyscira." Carter Hall told Superman. "It was after their home was sacked the Amazon's left the Earthly realm for their Paradise Island, a gift from their goddess patrons."

"If Diana appears cautious with her trust, it is because her peoples history is defined by that betrayal." Shiera said.

Diana knew the Hawks beside being students of History, had memories of those events having lived through many historic times. She however wanted to explain something of her people's history to Superman, so he could better understand them and her. She said to him. "These bracelets – or properly called Vambraces are worn by every Amazon always. It's our way of remembering, that the Amazons – my sisters were held shackled in cuffs, made slaves, by Heracles and his army." Diana hoped Kal would grasp the importance of this symbolism as she guided her plane into the Bermuda Triangle.

"And that is why you do not permit men on Themyscira's mainland?"

"Yes."

"What of family, of children?" Superman asked.

"We are immortal in every way that matters, our population is almost static, although other women have joined our ranks, becoming Amazons, as it happens I was the first child born on our sacred Island."

She could see he wanted to ask how that might be, but he kept silent. "Kal we are not like your women. I mean the women of Patriarchs world.

"Shiera loves Carter I see it, and it is a wonderful thing, but I don't have that... need, as immortal beings it doesn't make sense for us to have those kind of desires because there's no need for new generation to replace the old."

"You don't know love?"

He appeared shocked to the core, and she felt disappointed in him. "Of course Kal – of course we have love – your English word love is stupid, I'm sorry to be so blunt, but it is – I mean just one word for all kinds of love; love of family, for friends, for a beloved animal, for your gods – and then the same word for sex, for Eros.

"Is it so unbelievable that Amazon have no need for Eros? Kal I am full of love I assure you, love for my sisters, for my friends, for the living world. I have no time or need for romantic love."

Diana searched his cerulean blue eyes, and saw both understanding, and passion. She turned away guiding her plane through purple haze of wild electricity as the portal that had swallowed Steve Trevor's experimental plane opened at her behest and sent them hurtling to Themyscira in an instant.

Emerging over the Island Wonder Woman thought of Steve Trevor, of his forward compliments, his habitual pet name for her, beautiful. She knew he truly meant it, just as she saw in his eyes animal hunger, but she also felt his coldness and condescension to her alter ego Diana Prince. She knew Steve was a good soldier and a brave man, but he was also flawed, weakened by his libido. He wanted her as Heracles had her mother, yet he needed her loyalty to his country. She knew he wanted both.

Yet here was Kal. Strong and noble. A young man who acted justly and spoke the truth. She could see this with certainty, just as Trevor's conflicted role was clear to her. Yet Diana also saw that Superman had passion and desire; she hoped he would find the kind of happiness Carter Hall enjoyed with Shiera Sanders. Above all she was glad Eros did not affect her heart, life was complicated enough.

Diana opened the portal once more and exited her homeland this time emerging over the Greek Islands, on a heading for Germany.

-'S'-

The Dark Angel Valkyrie felt the world around go dark and then the dismal shadows came alive as she and Wotan crackled into existence. The Dark Lord had brought her to the headquarters of project Ahnenerbe SS porting direct from the Castle Wewelsburg to Berlin.

She recognised the Colonels Wüst and Willigut, beside Wotan these men were the first beings she had seen after her rebirth. Deep within her psyche Valkyrie knew she had been someone else, but that someone no longer mattered, a legion of Dark Angels had been woven into one corporate entity, and Valkyrie was the sum of their power.

Beyond the two SS officers, stood a man, his bald head was familiar, his dark suit indicated he was a civilian, and yet his bearing suggested he was something more. Valkyrie saw two winged figures standing beside a third dark haired bearded man. Valkyrie felt a twinge of recognition, both men were ghosts from her world before.

"Lex Luthor." Willigut greeted the bald man with a bombastic enthusiasm, that Valkyrie did not believe. Neither of them was happy to see the other, yet they shook hands like old friends.

Beyond him was another figure looking to all intents and purposes like a knight of old, and yet his armour was not grey metal, but something else entirely.

"May I introduce Baron Blitzkrieg." Luthor said passing Willigut a file.

She tensed, not knowing why she felt anger and loathing.

Willigut looked at notes Luthor had given to him, and then the SS Colonel walked around the Baron. "I did not think your super soldier program was to bear fruit so quickly."

Luthor smiled, he was evidently pleased by Willigut's surprise. "I was following an alternative line of research. One which seems to have born fruit for us both."

Willigut scowled. Luthor's raised hand pointed to her. Valkyrie believed Luthor felt pride in her, it was as if he had a hand in her making.

She scowled at the civilian. "I am Lord Wotan's." She said defiantly. Repeating what she felt – a passion that defined her existence.

Baron Blitzkrieg wore the Nazi flag as his cape, red with the white disc and black swastika at it's centre. On his chest the same emblem fixed to his bony hide. Black shorts covered his modesty, black boots completed the look which both aped Superman's costume and that of military grey worn by the German army.

His face was a mask of immobility, he chose to wear a close fitting helmet over his bony features, below which his grey jaw jutted.

He strode to her.

"I am Vaklyrie." she said.

"Paula?" He whispered hoarsely.

She pulled back from him, why she wondered, was she so angry?

Wotan came between them, taking hold of the Baron by his arm, saying. "She is only Valkyrie. No less, no more."

The Dark Lord's touch seemed more than enough to force Baron Blitzkrieg away, the grey Knight shivered at her Lords touch, his knees buckling as Wotan released his grip, letting the Baron recover. Blitzkrieg stood tall once again, but he did not look at her.

"The Baron should understand his place." Willigut said. Valkyrie approved of that sentiment, intensely.

Willigut continued to Luthor. "Wotan possesses the power of alien crystal which is your super soldiers Achilles heel."

"And the means by which we both succeeded in our work. The meteor rock is in your possession because of me." Luthor said. "Without it could there even be a Wotan?" He asked his contemptuous smile betrayed him.

Valkyrie gasped silently, could her Lord Wotan not be the god she imagined, the god she was created to serve? She dismissed her doubts, burying them.

"Doctor Hastor has found a man and a woman able to make use of the Weapons of Magical Dominance he brought to us." Wüst stated as he walked between Willigut and then Luthor. He was like an angry school teacher separating squabbling boys.

"Here are the Reich Eagles." Hastor announced, pointing to the winged man and woman.

Wotan stepped forward. "I find the metal these wings are made from most interesting."

"As I find you, Lord Wotan." Hastor said, bowing as he spoke.

"My Reich Knights." Wotan declared. Each of the costumed warriors snapped to attention, such was the innate power of his words. "I have sensed within the territory of Greater Germany interlopers, beings of power who are the enemy of our glorious Third Reich. Together we must defend our country from them."

-'S'-

Diana's invisible plane pushed deep into the territory of the Third Reich's.

Superman tried to gauge how Wotan's magical influence was effecting his well being. He did not feel his strength ebbing away which was good, but on the other hand his super senses felt blunted. Reaching out he caressed the translucent skin of Wonder Woman's invisible plane. Superman wondered if the same magic that hid Diana's aircraft from the world might also afford him some level of protection against the magic influence of Wotan.

Time would tell. Superman steeled himself for the inevitable moment when he must face his fears and he hoped that he could be, despite Wotan's magic, strong enough. Superman did not want to fail his friends.

"The Citadel is located in the countryside to the east of Berlin." Diana told her passengers.

Superman looked forward using his telescopic vision, normally he could see further and more clearly, but Wotan's magical influence reduced his field of vision.

Eventually he was able to say. "I have located a hole in the ground that I think matches the descriptions of the Citadel's location, but I can't see the Citadel itself."

"Then the Nazi's have progressed further still." Carter Hall said. "Could the Fortress be travelling to another location?"

Superman thought this the likely answer. "Any ideas how we can track this thing?" He asked.

"I have the eye of Artemis, goddess of the hunt." Diana replied. "I can track anything."

"You are a psychometric?" Carter Hall asked.

"Yes in the sense I can see the trail every living thing leaves, the echo of it's passing, nothing no matter how light footed can escape me, I see the truth of where it has been, and I can track a bird's path through the air, so the Citadel cannot escape the eyes of the goddess of the hunt."

"Because the Nth Metal gives the Citadel a soul." Hawk Man concluded.

With those words Diana turned to pursue the Nazi's flying fortress.

Superman determined they were flying west towards the English Channel.

-'S'-

Zytlar-Luthor guided the Citadel steadily across occupied France, Göring had given the order that they were to rendezvous with the Luftwaffe escort, a squadron of fighters, and then onto London in formation. The Reich Marshall believed the sight of the Citadel in the sky above the enemy capital would be a huge propaganda victory.

Zytal did not doubt this plan, but to him it smacked of desperation. The Battle of Britain was proving to be harder to win than predicted. Göring's Luftwaffe had to achieve air superiority if the invasion of the English Mainland was to take place. Although traffic through the English Channel had been halted, the RAF had not been broken.

German Bombers had begun targeting the civilian population in an effort to break morale, the consequences devastating. Göring made sure to arm his flying fortress with heavy ordinance too, the Citadel was to rain death down onto London as it past over head. Thousand pound bombs were stacked on the deck ready to fall from the Fortress.

The Citadel had been armed with heavy machine gun emplacements, and naval guns alongside the existing anti aircraft weapons. In this way it was already well protected. The Messerschmitt 109 escort was an extra line of defence, but the fighters could only stay with the Citadel for a mere ten minutes over London. Their range was too limited for a longer flight time. Göring believed the risk to his Citadel was worthwhile because the sight of the flying fortress would be strike terror into the civilian population of the city.

Zytal-Luthor valued his own skin, even if others did not. He was a kind of Frankenstein's Monster, and his less than human status made him the ideal choice to work with the hitherto lethal flying discs. Simply Zytal was expendable. A rare early success among the many experiments carried out by his 'father', but he had no doubt Lex Luthor would master the process in due course. That he was repeatable.

His mission was to get the Citadel over London.

"If all else fails. If the British bring us down." Hastor had told him. "My Eagles will fly us clear, and the Citadel will make a giant hole in London."

Zytal knew this was true, if the worse happened this flying building would be the ultimate bomb. "You can be sure Anton that the British will throw all they have at us once we are seen."

"We will no doubt surprise them." Hastor said with confidence.

It was a confidence Zytal did not share.

His attachment to the Luftwaffe had given Zytal access to various projects that might have a bearing on his work with the Annunki's flying disc. Among these had been the science of Radar. The early prototype had be called Freya after the Germanic goddess. Zytal had monitored the Luftwaffe's progress, and had come to the conclusion his superiors were too anxious to exploit the offensive potential of this new science, the Nazi's attention was captured by the possibilities of more accurate bombing, and Zytal could see his bosses had ignored the value of defensive Radar installations. Zytal had studied the aerial battle over the last weeks and days, and he was sure the British were using Radar defensively. The RAF was getting the jump on the Luftwaffe because the British had advanced warning of the German aircraft. He was certain the huge Citadel would appear as irresistible target.

-'S'-

King George VI looked out across the city of London from Buckingham Palace, palls of smoke rose past the barrage balloons that dotted the skyline as a deterrent to enemy planes. When the first German bombing raid on London had struck, Saturday September 7th 1940, estimates put civilian deaths at around a thousand. Over three hundred aircraft had pounded the city. He and his wife Queen Elizabeth had chosen to remain in London at the outbreak of war, and he remained determined to do so, even in the face of these nightly raids on his people.

"Majesty I must leave you."

The King turned from the window to face Sir Justin. The Shining Knight's spoken English still had a certain exotic ring to it. The King understood as a man out of time, Justin wrestled with the nuances of modern language. "Duty calls?" He concluded.

"Yes Sire." Sir Justin bowed. His golden armour shone reflecting the light as did so.

"More Bombers?" The King asked. The papers were calling these brutal attacks the Blitz.

"Something." Sir Justin replied. The Shining Knight's expression became tense as he searched for the right words. "Something very big. Not expected."

The King was no wiser, he would have to call Downing Street, and the subterranean war rooms for a clearer answer.

"I thought the Germans had switched to night raids to avoid heavy losses." The King mused more to himself than to the warrior from a former age. The man appointed as his guardian.

"Perhaps the something – is something they wish London to see." Sir Justin replied. Adding. "With your permission Sire?"

"Of course man, good Lord, God be with you." He replied watching the golden armour of Britain's hero leave his presence.

Above the palace, there was a flash of orange light, as the fiery steed Victory, the magic mount of the Shining Knight carried him skyward.

-'S'-

Superman fell from the blue, swooping down on the Citadel as it crossed the narrow band of water that separated the European mainland from the coast of England. The Man of Steel was glad to be in action, especially here and now, here where the influence of Wotan's magic waned. Superman was happy to take any advantage he could.

Approaching the Citadel's concrete superstructure Superman estimated the speed of the flying fortress to be about two hundred miles per hour, the Nth energy bubble around the fortress crackled around him like static electricity as punctured the envelope that enabled the Citadel to fly. Landing on the concrete deck of the fortress, he was immediately met by a hail of high calibre bullets, the machine gun installations barking into life as his arrival was spotted. Within the bubble of Nth energy the German soldiers were protected from the worst of the wind but they were still exposed.

Superman shrugged off the hail of hot metal as the high power rounds rebounded from his near impervious hide. He felt them more keenly than he might, and he counted himself lucky, that he was too close to the building itself to be targeted by the much heavier naval gun installations.

From a concealed entrance within the series of interconnected towers the Nazi Reich Eagles burst forth, their wings outstretched, carrying heavy chain fed machine guns, the belt ammo hung from shoulders, and they added their fire to the fight.

It was all part of Superman's plan. He was exposed and visible, a distraction. From within the hidden plane flying above, Hawk Man and Hawk Girl suddenly emerged, swooping down towards their Nazi doppelgängers, heavy maces in hand the Hawks struck the Reich Eagles from either side, the metal body of the machine guns deforming as the simpler older steel of the Hawks made the modern weapons useless.

An aerial battle between the winged warriors broke out above the Citadel in the sky. The Hawks dived and wheeled around the Reich Eagles who resorted to lighter guns, but the Hawks carried shields empowered by the Nth Metal energies in their hands, and these repelled the Nazi's fire.

Superman sped past the rain of bullets and broke the machine guns targeting him, first one and than a second, back and forth he raced on route to heavy steel door, the entrance to the Fortress.

At speed, in a split second, he readied to break it down. Hundredths of a second later the whole door exploded outwards, Superman bounce back away as the door swung towards him, a blow struck him, followed by the whip crackling noise of a fist flying at supersonic speed, the punch landing before the sound.

Superman rolls and staggers back his feet scraping on the deck of the Citadel.

The grey hulking warrior leaps forward, to rain in a blur of motion blows at the Man of Steel. As it strikes the creature cries out its name like Stuka Bomber screaming in its attack dive. "Baron Blitzkrieg!"

Superman counter punches, the body of the Nazi ubermensch does not yield, rock hard skin - as tough as own his steel-like hide deflects his counter-attack. Superman's x-ray like vision tells him the impossible – the armour _is_ the skin of this strange man.

Superman tastes blood in his mouth, the creature has great strength, but it is not the first time Superman has fought a being of power, and he cuts loose, smashing into Baron Blitzkrieg, his punch rockets the Nazi warrior back into the doorway from whence he came. The Citadel shakes as Baron Blitzkrieg shatters the concrete inner wall, and pulls himself free from the bent steel mesh within. With a mighty leap he smashes into Superman once more.

-'S'-

Diana enters the complex unseen, past Superman and the Metahuman Knight as they fight. Wonder Woman runs along the path she memorised in her last brief visit, around her the Citadel is in uproar, but Diana moves faster than the soldiers and technicians can react, the sheer force of her passage knocks them aside sending all sprawling in the corridor behind her. Wonder Woman arrives at the entrance to the main laboratory bunker. Insubstantial guards block her path, behind them a substantial metal door seals the bunker. Machine guns bark as the German soldiers open fire, her arms flash in a blur of movement, bullets fly away from her, deflected by her vambraces. Diana moves past the guards; her hands and feet make contact, knocking them out cold. Grasping the heavy metal vault Wonder Woman rips the door open. She swings around it, leaping down the stair well in a single graceful bound, sliding into the large open space where the flying disc chassis is secured.

"I was waiting for you child of Magic. Come pledge your loyalty to Wotan."

Diana recognises the Nazi god, the Dark Mage was as green skinned as Superman had described, she watches him, ready to strike; according to Dr Occult's explanation of his powers, the Nazi Sorcerer would not be as powerful as he was in Berlin.

Wotan suddenly launches an attack of directed magical energy, Diana crosses her bracelets and Wotan's burst of fire whips around her like tornado, and with it's passage she reaches for her Lasso, the golden cord flashes from her waist hurtling through the air toward Wotan.

Suddenly Diana is snatched from behind, as in the same moment Wotan laughs at her as he snaps out of existence, out of the path of the Lasso, crackling away from view.

-'S'-

Superman digs deep and battles Baron Blitzkrieg, blow for blow he knows he is stronger, now the Nazi flag his opponent wears is nothing but tatters. Superman lands a mighty punch on the body of the Nazi enemy and he feels the Baron's armoured hide cracks under his fist, blood leaks from the shatter pattern of the wound, evidence that his enemies armour is his skin. The Baron snarls in pain and rage, but the Man of Steel presses his advantage. From above there is falling human form. A Reich Eagle, the woman tumbles against the citadel walls to bounce hard on the floor of the concrete deck.

Superman hammers the Baron a final time propelling him into the buildings super structure, Blitzkrieg's metal helmet deformed and his jaw broken. Superman his own hands battered and bruised, his nose bloodied. The second Reich Eagle crashes to the deck propelled by Hawk Man, Carter Hall releases him and with his mace ensures the Nazi joins his partner in unconsciousness.

Superman breathes deeply, and with relief he genuinely feels wipes the blood from his face. Then Wotan crackles into existence before him.

Superman has to act, dodging the first beam of magical energy Superman dives at the Dark Mage, but at the last moment, he turns away his feint is deliberate. Hawk man hammers his mace into the Sorcerer, together with Hawk Girl they strike from either side, aiming for the green creatures head.

The maces collide, but not with Wotan, rather the Dark Lord's body crackles with energy, a magical shield of power, and the Citadel lurches as if Wotan leaches from the engine within.

The Hawks are propelled away from him, shocked backwards by magic, they tumble across the deck and fall away from him, as Wotan spreads his hands the energies force the stunned flyers from the citadel and over the edge. Superman can see them fall, he leaps skyward intent on saving them. Wotan magic grips him in great whip like tentacles of energy, bruised and battered by his fight with Baron Blitzkrieg, Superman struggles against his foe.

-'S'-

Diana feels the arm around her neck, a strong grip intending to apply pressure to her throat, a hand takes her wrist, she reacts turning into her assailant. Wonder Woman twists down and out from under the grip, into the crouch where she sweeps the feet of her attacker. Valkyrie leaps upward jumping clear.

Diana flips backward snatching her lasso back into her hand, before landing to face the Riech Knight.

She sees the dark armour of her magical opponent glowing red. Her face is stern glowering in rage, and Wonder Woman gasps in recognition. "Paula von Gunther."

"I am Valkyrie!" The silver haired Warrior bunched her fists. Her scream echoes around the bunker.

Diana shivered. "Hera what has been done to you?"

Valkyrie answered with a imperceptible movement of her hand as fine silver cord flashed across lashing itself around Wonder Woman's wrist.

Diana yanked hard on the cord, and found it as irresistible as her own god-forged golden lasso.

"You will not break the Gleipnir, it is the magic chain that bound the Fenris Wolf, ravager of the world, slayer of gods, it is strong as creation itself."

Diana felt her will sapping from her mind, the rage, the adrenaline fired fight instinct evaporated for her. She felt ready to fall to her knees and yield, but she held in her hand a gold chain forged in the fires of Hestia from the girdle of the Earth, it's magic kept her mind true. Wonder Woman released the Magic Lasso which encircled Valkyrie's wrist in like fashion.

Images rushed into Diana's mind as the Magic's wrestled one with the other.

She sensed deep within the corporate mind that was Valkyrie's consciousness was Paula's identity, but over layered was a legion of Dark Battlefield Angels.

The Gleipnir carried an enchantment, as did her own Lasso; both were unbreakable but the Gleipnir did not illicit truth, it instead robbed whoever was held within it's grasp of the will to resist. The Fenris Wolf had been destruction personified. If the beast that brought the Norse apocalypse – Ragnarok, could be tamed by the Gleipnir, then any lesser being would be completely defeated.

"Where is the Hand of Mars?" She demanded.

Valkyrie laughed at her. "All the way to the Necropolis and you didn't find it?"

Diana realised that Valkyrie was as clueless as herself. The two warriors strained one against the other, irresistible unbreakable magic forces meeting.

-'S'-

Superman struggled within the tentacle of magic, preparing for Wotan's wrath. He could hear the approaching roar of Merlin engines, the RAF Supermarine Spitfires were on there way to intercept the citadel's fighter escort. He prayed Wonder Woman was still in the fight, that she could stop whatever engine made this thing fly.

Unexpectedly Baron Blitzkrieg leapt back attacking him. Incredibly the Nazi warrior had recovered, his body had healed. Angrily the Iron Nazi lashed out at the Man of Steel, Wotan released Superman from his magic, the Sorcerer seemed content to stand aloof from the battle, to watch Baron Blitzkrieg attack. Superman wondered what had become of the Hawks, but has he tried to block the blows raining down on him from the Reich Knight, he was forced to concentrate. A whip of magical energy lashed out from Wotan. Superman had been wrong, Wotan was just toying with him. The Sorcerers magic sent Superman smashing into the Citadel's main tower, as he dragged himself from the broken concrete covered in white dust, Baron Blitzkrieg charged at him once more.

Superman roars in rage, thinking if I'm going down, I'm going to go down fighting. His punch hits the Baron hard, and Blitzkrieg staggers back, then another blast of energy from Wotan smashes Superman to the ground. Superman shakes his head groggy, fighting unconsciousness.

Wotan rises his hands aloft they crackle with violence and he drives the fire from his fists towards Superman.

But the fire does not reach it's target instead a golden figure riding a fiery steed, charges the magic bolt dividing it with his sword.

Superman sees magic meet magic. The terrible blast is divided and deflected. The Man of Tomorrow uses the brief respite to recover and charges forward, running between the beams directing his strength at the Baron.

Superman does not recognise this golden armoured Knight, but he does the Union flag. His allegiance was with the British. Clearly the armoured man wields powerful magic, and Superman is glad this surprise is on the side of democracy.

Superman drives at Baron Blitzkrieg hard, and he let's his fists do all the talking, he keeps nothing back, the Reich Knight is highly resilient, Superman thinks like me Blitzkrieg can be hurt, and hurt back; like me, he heals very quickly. The Man of Steel felt no qualms about hammering the Iron Knight with all his might, they were too alike, while privately wondering how this creature could be.

-'S'-

Sir Justin's armour reflects the magical blast of the Wotan as if they were water, the power of Merlin's old magic is strong within him, and this is not the first time he has faced the Dark Lord. In his hand Justin wields his enchanted sword Veritas, a magical weapon that is the equal of the Clarent, the sword in the stone, and Excalibur, the sword from the Lady of the Lake.

Wotan brings to hand his own weapon a blade that glows red hot, and burns as if newly forged. Justin steeped in magical lore courtesy of Merlin, recognises the Zorn, Wotan's sword of wrath. The magical blades clash, and the air crackles with lightening and reverberates with thunder.

He sees as he turns duelling with Wotan, how the American, the hero called Superman fights a hideous Knight, more monster than man. Together their blows compress the air, the cracks and booms shatter the Citadel yet further, glass tumbles, concrete cracks and crumbles. Justin battles on against the magic warrior, facing Wotan, swords clashing in the dance of death and steel.

-'S'-

Wonder Woman and Valkyrie struggle, a tug of war wedded to ballet, as they strike at each other with their feet, kicking and blocking as best they can.

Diana wrestles her powerful opponent, suddenly she absorbs a viscous body blow, she grunts in pain. Diana uses the magical ropes, that bind her and Valkyrie to each other, to stop her self from falling. Wonder Woman's regains her balance and strikes out, her foot catches Valkyrie's triumphant face.

Paula tumbles back and Diana falls with her. Valkyrie readies her feet, and Diana feels the boots of the Nazi warrior smash into her chest, the Amazon finds herself propelled backwards. Diana summons her power of flight. "Hermes help me." She spits.

Diana pulls on her lasso, she pulls on the Gliepner, Valkyrie resists but Diana rolls adding momentum to her swing, she catches hold of the heavy steel frame that secures the flying disc's chassis to the Citadel with her legs. Firmly placed Wonder Woman yanks Valkyrie to her. The Nazi now must resist both her and the mammoth Fortress, pulling against the concentrated Nth metal power amplified by the Annunki Engine.

Diana understood this principle and exploits it, fighting the concentrated minds of a legion of Dark Battlefield Angels, she wins.

Valkyrie hurtles towards her and crashes directly into the exposed lattice of the flying disc's structural frame, smashing into the Annunki's gravitational motor. Electrical energy arcs around Valkyrie's body, she shudders, screams, and struggles.

With a violent crackle and groan the Nth metal field wavers, Valkyrie's hands tear at the wafer thin foil of Nth Metal that both shields the motor, and amplifies the energy bubble around the fortress. This field wavers, and so the building's mass returns, it's rigid structure begins to fail, and to fall around them.

Diana drags Valkyrie from the motor's energy field, the Nazi warrior falling into her arms unconscious. Wonder Woman must carry her enemy as she leaps out of the concrete well where the flying disc is locked in place, and runs out onto the deck of the crumbling building. Around her the crew, technicians and guards flee, grabbing parachutes they began to bail out, leaping over the side of the deck and away from the failing Citadel.

Diana could see Superman pound the grey warrior Baron Blitzkrieg, she had heard him shout his name at the outset.

Now the Nazi looked like a crushed snail, in Superman's hands, his body armour, shell like, had been shattered, and he was slick in red blood. At last the grey Reich Knight succumbed to the Man of Steel, and the Baron fell back unconscious onto the deck.

The Hawks had returned. Carter Hall held his left arm tucked into his chest braces, was evidently injured Diana observed. Shiera Sanders was bloodied but in better shape, they had defeated the Reich Eagles.

Diana called out to her colleagues. "The engine beneath is damaged. It would be wise to get away before it blows." She landed next to Superman, but her attention was directed at Wotan and the man he fought.

"Who is that Knight?" She asked.

"I don't know." Superman replied. He panted, catching his breath. "He's British, and I'm glad he arrived. For a moment I thought I would have to handle both Blitzkrieg and Wotan."

"I would dearly like to meet Wotan." Diana spat. Her hand itched for a spear.

"Lets take him." Superman said.

She looked at him with admiration. He was a warrior, his bloodied hands and battered face declared it. He clearly never backed down. Together they leapt at the Dark Sorcerer.

Yet Superman and Wonder Woman found only the lingering smell of ozone where Wotan had stood. Wotan clearly deciding the battle had turned against him, and with a defiant roar and a foul curse even as they charged at him, the Dark Lord teleported from the Citadel.

"The blaggard runs." The Knight cried. Waving his Sword above his head in triumph, before turning to her. "Britain thanks you all for your aid." He said.

"I should thank you." Superman replied. "But I do not know who you are?"

"Sir Justin, called the Shining Knight. "I know of you both."

Sir Justin then bowed to Wonder Woman. "Fair Maiden, your call, your shout, this has me troubled."

Diana agreed with him, as she felt the Citadel shake even more. "We're going to have to go, the engine of this thing is about tear this place apart." She said.

"Aye, and it will fall upon the ground. See we are at the White Cliffs!" Justin gestured with his Sword. England's coastline lay below.

"We can't allow that to happen." Superman said leaping into the air he flew beneath the concrete structure, gripping the Citadel. Wonder Woman joined him.

"We must try and get it back over the water." He shouted.

"Titans?" The Shining knight called out. "What would you have me do?" He hovered on a fiery steed, it's vast flame wings beat the air.

Diana recognised a mystical Pegasus spirit, a horse of fire and magic, which explained how the Sir Justin had reached the Citadel.

"I'm not concerned about the building itself hitting the water." Superman shouted, his face grimly set with determination and labour. "But I don't want the motor to explode close to shore. From what I have learned about these engines they are incredibly destructive if they fail, like a bomb of immense power."

Diana sensed his urgency. "Sir Knight." Wonder Woman asked. "Can you cut the engine free from the metal that holds it?" She hoped his sword was enchanted with such power. "It lies there!" She pointed to the centre of the Citadel lowest protruding bunker.

Without responding in words, the Shining Knight chose deed. He sliced into the body of the Citadel, hacking into the concrete well where the flying disc was secured to the steel superstructure. Once inside Sir Justin stuck again at the metal chassis, his enchanted sword cut through the metal releasing the engine from it's shackles, the motor and its fractured N'th metal shield fell, tumbling into Superman's waiting hands.

Wonder Woman heaved with all her might and the shattered building, it's bombs, and guns fell into the waters of the English Channel. Superman flew away, below the water exploded as the Citadel splashed down, and the Metropolis Marvel sped on faster, upwards ever higher.

-'S'-

High above the alien satellite flickered into action, its years of hibernation over. Tell tale radiations were being detected by it's sensors, the exact signature the probe been constructed to detect, and had long sought, was found.

Below Superman pushed himself, he had never flown this high, he used all of his strength to drive the motor up, up, and away, until Superman hung in the whisper thin upper atmosphere, perched on the very edge of space. Superman cast the critical reactor from his grip; turning like an athlete he gave a tremendous heave as he hurled it like an Olympic hammer away into the void. Below him lay the curve of the Earth, above him the damaged Annunki Engine flashed into the distance, hurtling free of gravity, until moments later the motor exploded in bright white ball of fire.

Beyond Superman the alien probe centred in on the explosion, this the crucial event. Critically at last particles of Nth metal were definitively detected. The on board computer homing program engaged the hyper drive engine and the probe flickered out of normal space back to it's master.


	57. Chapter 57

Winter 1940, in France the ignominy of occupation continues, but the threat to England of an invasion by the Axis powers had past for now, for Britain has withstood the might of Luftwaffe, and in the words of Churchill, "never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few". Romania falls to the Nazi's as the Third Reich moves to secure access to the countries oil fields on which Germany relies. Stalin's grab for territory has brought war to Finland and the subjection of the Baltic States. In Germany the Jews are forced to wear yellow stars. The flying Citadel had crashed into the channel, and into myth, it's propaganda value never realised. Clark Kent and Lois Lane have been reporting on life in war torn Europe from Marseilles in Vichy France.

Clark Kent waits patiently in the cool night air, still as a statue, his dark coat and hat camouflage amongst the shadows. Clark waits alone, watching. Here the French coast breaks into the Mediterranean, and Clark's preternatural senses scan the waters as the waves lap the beach a few miles south of the port of Marseilles. Above the sands, a rocky break water, and a winding road, a car stops not far from Clark's hiding place; two young women emerge.

Beyond a boat under power hums coming as close to the beach as it dare. Clark hangs back intently watching the crew, from their colouring and dress Kent concludes they are North African Arabs, he notes one of them is watching the women through binoculars. The dark haired woman turns to her blonde companion. "I have to try." She states, Clark's superhuman hearing detects the stress and worry in her voice.

He thinks could this be Laura Vogel?

"I wouldn't advise it, we need to be sure." Her blonde friends cautions.

Her advice unheeded the first woman begins to make her way to rendezvous. Clark checks the progress of the boat once more, and Superman acts.

The Arabs have donned visored helmets that bear more than a passing resemblance to those worn by Nazi Stormtroopers. From their boat a flash of bright light bursts and a glowing ball of yellow white flame now flashes the distance between the craft and the shore. Accelerating the fire ball travels quickly and too late, in a matter of micro seconds Superman realises this ball of plasma is moving faster than a speeding bullet, it's inexorable path targets the brunette. Superman closes the distance between them, for him the world now appears still as if paused, only he and the ball of fire move, both a blur to the human eye, but to his horror he is not fast enough. The moment the light approaches her, the young brunette woman falls absorbing the fire, as it wraps around her, in flash she is gone leaving only the scorched sand where she died, blackened like a perverse shadow.

This is a weapon the likes of which Superman has never seen, bitterly he remonstrates with himself, vowing not to allow the speeding fire to beat him a second time, knowing angrily that for this woman he can do nothing more. He wonders whether if this tragedy had played out in America rather than close to Wotan's sphere of magical influence, perhaps he would have been fast enough to save her. Here in Europe the Man of Steel had to work with the powers he had. Altering his course he swoops to intercept the blonde woman before she is targeted, then his super hearing detects the rhythm of familiar heartbeat. "Lois." he sighs through gritted teeth. "In the thick of this! I might have expected it."

Lois Lane hit the sand running, she had followed Clark Kent to this lonely locale, before losing him in the darkness, the sight of a woman illuminated by a fiery ball flashing in from the sea had confounded her expectations, and the combination of bright light and darkness had blinded her. In the short moment since the flash, to Lois's eyes the woman had fallen, she could not see her, her scream had been cut short.

Lane ran, worried that the other woman might be injured, Lois had to know. She hadn't grasped the where and how of this ball of light, only now as she crossed the beach did she see the dark outline of boat on the water.

Her breath was taken from her as the Man of Tomorrow swept her from the beach and into the night air. Beneath them a ball of light crashed into the short rock face that rose up between the beach and the shore, there it hissed and the rock glowed red hot where the fire had made contact.

"If I had any sense I'd let you play catch with that ball!" He snapped, as his hand grasped her waist. Lois knew that the fireball would have struck her had Superman not intervened, and she now guessed what she had witnessed moments earlier, it had been murder.

"Superman?" She gasped. "I owe you my life." He looked past her beach below them, saying. "Save your thanks - I haven't the time to acknowledge them."

Lois then asked, reasonably she thought. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you Lois." He replied, adding as he placed her on the road above the beach by way of explanation. "I was meeting Clark Kent's contact – you however were spying on him." Superman turned away, their was a coldness in his demeanour.

Lois for her part felt angry about the way he treated her, she felt he blew hot and cold, and although pleased that he'd been here to save her, she wondered how and why this was. Superman this far from American shores posed certain questions, one answer presented itself, and that had everything to do with Clark Kent. Her growing suspicions would have to wait, Lois could see that the blonde woman had run out onto the beach, perhaps after her friend, repeating Lois's mistake, however now having seen the weapon's fire up close, she seemed transfixed, too afraid to run, illuminated in the glow of the superheated rock.

A voice boomed from the boat. "Stay away. Or we will fire on the girl."

Superman's hand's made fists.

"We have our weapon trained on you as well - American." Lois figured the voice was coming from some kind of loud speaker. The accent was odd, she couldn't place it. Just at the waters edge Lois watched as on board lights blinked on, all pretence at stealth abandoned, and incredibly the boat powered onto the beach, it had some ski like protrusions from it's hull and an aero engine mounted on board for propulsion. A strange marriage of designs she hadn't witnessed before, given their terrible weapon the boat seemed less bizarre. The craft mounted the sands and men leapt from the deck. They rand forward and seized hold of the blonde woman. Superman stood between her and them, intent it seemed on protecting her. Lois felt a twinge of guilt, she wasn't to know, if only Clark Kent had confided in her about this rendezvous she wouldn't have followed him. Lois saw in the deck lights that their attackers were Arabic, she recognised the distinctive long robes with headdress, equally clear were their guns.

"Superman – stay back or the girl dies!" The amplified voice declared. The wielders of the shadow death were pulling the girl onto their boat. The voice continued. "You have five seconds to depart – alone, leave the other girl."

"Just another bunch of brave lads." Superman stated. Shouting to the Arabs, "it seems I have no alternative, I'll go but Lois goes with me."

With those words the Man of Tomorrow leapt skywards with Lois in his arms. She looked at him as they flew. "That was Laura Vogel?"

"I assume so – I wasn't aware Clark had confided in you."

"He didn't, Varian Fry told me that Laura Vogel had contacted him at the Villa Air-Bel."

"The Reporter?" Superman asked her. Lois felt sure he knew exactly who she meant, the American journalist Varian Fry had joined Mary Jayne Gold, together they were working to help people wanting to flee Vichy France and the Third Reich.

"I put two and two together." Lois told him. Then she demanded "But you can't leave her at the mercy of those rascals."

"If Laura Vogel insists on getting into trouble that's her worry – not mine, especially when I've got you to look after."

Lois frowned, she felt like kicking him, but that didn't seem smart at altitude. Superman dropped into the town of Marseilles, to the quarter know as La Pomme, on the edge was the Villa Bel-Air, a large house a top of long driveway lined with tall Cedar trees. Superman deposited Lois outside the capacious library.

He made it clear he wasn't going to hang around. "But surely..." Lois gasped.

"Aren't you satisfied?" Superman replied hovering a few feet from the ground. "I got you out of this mess didn't I?" As he turned and sprung upwards into the night.

Lois spat air, lost for words. She couldn't believe that Superman would desert Laura Vogel, the woman clearly needed his help, but Lois loathed the thought she was being left out of the action. Lane sighed as she entered the house, she knew what the problem between them was, or at least she suspected it, and then tonight, well tonight had been terrible, she guessed Superman was angry by his tone, but she knew that anger was directed at himself and not her, the unidentified brunette girl had died, killed by that awful weapon that could melt rock and disintegrate a person, and Superman had clearly taken this tragedy personally. She had not helped by endangering herself, but she wasn't prepared to sit idly by while Clark took risks meeting strange women in the middle of night, even though their involvement with the Villa Bel-Air's Emergency Rescue Committee meant this was not an uncommon turn of events.

"Lois – back already? Where's Clark?" Varian Fry asked, his neck tie was loosed, and his hair with a slight curl was tussled, a pair of round spectacles framed his eyes.

"He'll be along later no doubt." Lois responded coolly.

"Lover's tiff?" Varian teased with a wry smile, suggesting that something was going on between the two Metropolis reporters, even if they seemed determined to ignore it. Lois returned his smile without any sincerity.

"Yeah sure, whatever Varian, it's late so if you don't mind - it's been a long night already." She said, turning on her heels and heading for the stairs. She was tired, and tomorrow was soon enough for twenty questions from her fellow journalist.

"Did Clark find Laura Vogel?"

Lois stopped. "I'm not sure." She said turning back to look at him. "But I found trouble and another American found me."

"Really – who?"

Lois smiled genuinely this time anticipating the reaction she was about to get. "Superman."

She savoured the dumbstruck look on Fry's face as she climbed the stairs, hand on the rail. The Man of Steel she wagered would not feel fatigue like this, and she imagined that Superman was even now following the strange boat out into the Mediterranean. The Reporter in her wondered where the strange craft would lead him, and as she remembered the fireball weapon her heart feared the answer.

-'S'-

North Africa's dry and parched land, in Arabic Sahara, here an American expedition works it's way West, largely ignorant that War has come to this continent. At the head of this mixed bunch of Westerners and local tribesmen, is the respected archaeologist Carlton Vogel. He withdraws from his pocket a well worn and much folded document. He consults the letter from Carter Hall once more. His colleague has outlined in detail, he claims, information pertaining to the lost city of Ulonda, which myth holds is situated in the Sahara, west of the fertile Nile Valley.

"Dear Carlton, if the mythical invisible city of Ulonda does exist it must have been founded in actuality after those events previously discussed, namely the fate of Prince Khufu. What interests me most is your discovery of the reference to Ulonda in the New Kingdom Texts, translated into the Greek during Ptolemaic Egypt, of a city being founded far from the Nile because it was the sacred place where Horus brought his sky Chariot to Earth.

To assist you in your quest I have included a map I have drawn from my unique sources which should guide you to the area in question, I regret being unable to accompany you but as you know I am shortly to be married, but look forward to hearing from you in due course."

Carlton consults the hand drawn map, there is little in the way of landmarks here in the sea of sifting dunes, and but for the wind and baying of the camels serving as their mounts the desert is a lonely and lifeless place.

"Ulonda is to be found not far from our current position." He shouts to the leader of the local men on whom his expedition depends.

"If that is so, then we will be the first men in many years to sight it, and you sir the first white man perhaps ever." Mohammed was probably correct Carlton reflected, if he were to see the city, if the fabled city was real, then it would be a major discovery, Shiera Saunders was a lovely woman, and Carlton thought she would ease his colleagues sense of loss should Ulonda be found without him, although he remembered how his sister Laura had found the intense Professor Hall very interesting, but his heart had already been given over to the lovely Miss Saunders, and even Laura had been unable to catch his eye.

Shortly one of the front riders gave out a cry, the wind was stiff, and with it the sand tended to ride the air, Carlton himself wore the Arabian Headdress called the Keffiyeh, effective against the dust and sun.

It was that dust which gave away the incredible secret, there like a mirage, so much so that Vogel scarcely believed his eyes was a city, buildings taller than he imagined possible in Africa stood behind stout walls, whose great gate lay broken collapsed exposing Ulonda to the desert. Beyond these walls and structures was another strange sight, most of the city appeared to be an empty circle of sand, around which a few buildings stood within the perimeter wall interspersed with lush irrigated gardens. It made no sense to Carlton until in the midst of the storm the whole barren centre of the Ulonda flickered in and out of focus revealing this void to be an illusion. It was as if a bubble like an upturned bowl concealed the inner city where taller buildings still stood, hiding the true scale of Ulonda from sight. Vogel realised this was more than some archaeological relic; Ulonda was a living city, and one which possessed a science beyond his understanding. He guessed at one time the entire city had been concealed under the invisible protective bubble, and he could not help wonder what calamity had befallen Ulonda, that had led to the defensive barrier being pulled back from the outer walls. Something or someone had breached the outer defences, breaking the walls and bursting apart the main gate.

A voice in Arabic called out again, but this time it was the back marker of their caravan, Carlton swung around in the saddle and saw other riders, these men had horses, and rifles, they wore sand coloured helmets with a visor, and a few of the riders carried strange looking wide barrelled guns, or at least that was what Carlton assumed them to be.

Unfortunately his assumption proved to be correct, these were weapons right enough, but it wasn't bullets that attacked the archaeologists caravan, but where ever they hit balls of fiery plasma consumed both camel and man, leaving a blackened shadow behind on the sand. Mohammed grabbed Carlton's animal's bridle and spurring both camels he urged them at a gallop towards the only sanctuary available - Ulonda it self.

The caravan broke it's ordered line, as each man and beast rode for themselves, running for the broken gate way into Ulonda. The back markers faired worst, falling to the fire balls, one after another, until only Mohammed and Carlton arrived at the shimmering mirage like wall. Falling from their beasts, they staggered to the bubble that encapsulated Ulonda, hesitatingly Carlton reached out and touched the strange glassy surface, and he felt a faint electrical charge. The Archaeologist hammered his fist back and forth, but the bubble did not yield and sounded solid. Around them the balls of light struck the shield in bright bursts of fire, and suddenly the barrier wavered.

Carlton and Mohammed crouched down and the adventurer wondered whether it was these aggressors who had attacked Ulonda previously, he felt certain they must have, perhaps causing the Ulondans to pull back their defensive barrier. Just when Carlton thought all was lost a hand reached through the invisible shield around Ulonda and dragged both him and Mohammed inside.

-'S'-

Superman drove out across the sea, judging the course of the fleeing aero-engined boat correctly, crossing the waves south towards Africa. As it made it's way from land the coast receded from view until there was only water visible around it, then it slowed to a halt. It struck the Man of Steel that this craft meant to make a rendezvous of it's own, but with what he did not know. However it seemed to him as good a time as any to discover what was going on.

Superman hit the deck of the boat hard enough to unsettle the craft on the water. Men howled in surprise and rage. Breaking into the cabin of the boat by tearing his way inside, metal and wood grinding and snapping between his fingers the Man of Tomorrow faced the Arabs.

"Release that girl!" Superman declared as he emerged through the gaping hole in the deck.

"Attend to that interfering fool!" The voice was that same one from before but without artificial amplification. Superman saw the Arabs donned their Helmets, he pushed those around the blonde girl aside, his hands rested on her shoulders. She looks at him startled and then with terror. Superman sees a wide barrelled weapon is being levelled at them, and he grasps that the thugs intend to fire upon them in the confines of the cabin.

The Man of Steel places himself between the expected ball of fire and the girl saying. "Now let's see how this gadget works?" At the same time she falls, trying to hide on the floor behind him.

Superman faces down the burning plasma, which engulfs him before extinguishing itself brightly against the Man of Steel. The cabin smoulders, one of the Arabs who failed to don his helmet cries out in agony, his face raw as if he had badly burned by the sun. His Master ignores his screams. "Look – he survives, the plasma gun failed to destroy him."

Another bends over the fallen figure of Superman, shoving him with the but of one the wide barrelled weapons. "Lord Akbar the American is unconscious it seems."

"Good, that is something at least, better I think our Lord Zolar will prize his amazing resistance, he is a rare, nay an unique catch for Zolar, we will be rewarded for his capture more than his destruction." Akbar chuckled, indicating for his men to collect the Man of Tomorrow. It is not long after that from above a strange aircraft appears, it's lights picking out the strange boat on the water.

Superman spies it's approach from the deck, but remains still. The flying machine has both the appearance and size of an Airship, but a solid structure of steel plates rather than canvas cover the body of the cigar shaped craft. Fire bursts from nozzles along it's flanks controlling it's descent, as the rear nozzles flames died back and the air craft's forward speed slowed due to the attitude of stubby wings that protruded from it's sides, acting as air brakes. The strange Aircraft hung over the much smaller boat and a hatch opens in the belly of the ship allowing two stout cables down to the boat. The sailors have four shorter cables ready at each corner of their boat, these are attached to those from the air craft, two forward and two aft, and with a groan the entire boat begins it's ascent into the hull of the airframe above.

-'S'-

Carlton Vogel lay in the arms of his rescuers who appeared to him as visions of a bygone age, classical Egyptian kilts dressed with belts with decorative sashes that fell from the buckle, shirts which crossed the chest like stylised birds wings with a round colourful collar at the neck. Fortunately for Vogel their leader spoke ancient Greek, in which Carlton was reasonably fluent. This at least tallied with his information, the last time Ulonda had contacted the outside world had been during the Ptolemaic period that followed Alexander the Great's conquest of the Persian Empire and the founding of Alexandria, the ruling Greeks had adopted Egyptian culture and had given the world Cleopatra.

"Come stranger." His rescuers numbered seven men, and the headman, having a snake upon his headdress, which made him different from the other six, urged him and Mohammed forward away from the shield wall.

This scene made no sense to the Archaeologist, in so many ways these men were a people out of time, ancient in dress, as was the style and appearance of Ulonda. The city was an oasis, water ran from fountains fed by an artesian well he supposed, and this water irrigated the land, Ulonda was very green, with gardens growing crops, cut off from the world the city-state had to be self sufficient.

Carlton could see the crackling burst of light breaking on the bubble that protected the city, evidence that his pursuers weapons were still exploding on the outside. Both these guns and the bubble were incredible inventions that Vogel could not begin to fathom. The invisible shield was either magical or a technology beyond anything the twentieth century could imagine, Carlton wondered if the distinction mattered.

"Where are we going?" Vogel asked, hoping the lead man would answer.

"We must take you to our Priest-King the servant of our Lord Horus."

"Why did you save us?" Carlton asked.

"The enemy of our enemy is our friend." Came the long established reply of expediency, and Mohammed and Carlton were lead deeper into the mysterious hidden city of Ulonda.

"What happened to your city?" Carlton asked the lead man.

"One came to our sacred fortress several leagues from Ulonda, he claimed to be a traveller thirsty for knowledge, and spoke the words of a Priest of Horus, but he was a viper in our midst, he took from my people their weapons of fire, and the engine that hid the Stronghold."

"Agent Zolar." Carlton said bitterly.

"Yes he called himself Zolar, and to the people of the Fortress, he told them he was a god."

"A god?" Carlton wondered what Zolar had done to claim such a thing. The man leading them explained.

"The one called Zolar did many great things, so they believed he was Horus returned, and they showed him some of the things we had taken from Horus's chariot in Ulonda to defend the Fortress. They were proud that they had preserved them safe for all these centuries."

"Then he attacked you here."

"Yes he took the fire sticks of Horus and came to Ulonda, and with them he attacked our great tent, the magic that keeps our city hidden from the outside world. Our leader was forced to make this tent that hides Ulonda smaller, by doing this he made the walls thicker and therefore stronger."

Vogel had been right in his suspicions as to why the outer walls and buildings of Ulonda had been left exposed and abandoned while the centre remained hidden and protected.

"Then when we thought all was lost the servant of Horus came to us, he and his bride. Now we are saved."

Carlton did not know what to make of this last comment, so he kept his council as they came to the central plaza and the Temple-Palace of Ulonda's ruler.

-'S'-


	58. Chapter 58

Superman emerged from his apparent state of unconscious, truth be told the impact of the plasma weapon had winded him, and not wanting a second blast from the mysterious Arab's incredible plasma weapons he had decided discretion was the better part of valour, and allowed himself to be taken, now he was aboard the Airship, he wondered what further surprises awaited him.

His captures had chained him to the superstructure of the craft, firmly around his neck, and his hands and feet. The blonde haired woman was with him, also restrained - she seemed to be weeping sorrowfully to herself.

He surreptitiously scanned the aircraft and identified the stamp of it's Nazi origin. Superman concluded that this vessel had begun life as atypical rigid Airship. The craft was propelled by some kind of rocket motor, but there was something else giving the ship lift, because the vast space that by rights should occupied by gas had been modified, and it was now set out more like a ship of the seas, with space for men and munitions. He searched the cabins and found them occupied by Arabs much like the ones who had taken him. Superman was aware of the link between Arab nationalists and the fascist regimes.

Superman had seen this kind of anti-gravity technology before, most recently in the case the flying citadel. This had been made possible because of Nth Metal. Hawkman and Hawkgirl had explained to the Justice Society, that an alien ship from a distant world called Thangar had crashed in the territory of then Egyptian Empire some three thousand years ago. Whereas the citadel had been an accidental meeting of different sciences, the subterranean Annunki engine and Nth Metal, there was no flying disc engine here, but something more primitive still harnessing the Nth metals powers, and it was frankly incredible, so much so that Superman was not sure he could believe the evidence of his eyes. His inspection was interrupted.

The young woman imprisoned with Superman spoke. "Are you awake?"

"I am. Are you okay - are you hurt?

"Forgive me." She murmured. "I'm doing okay... I'm so sorry I got you into this."

"Into what exactly?" Superman asked. "Just what is this all about?"

She looked at him, and he felt her eyes sorrowfully answer. "I am Laura Vogel, my brother is Carlton Vogel, the archaeologist, at present he's leading an expedition into the Sahara, he wrote to me from Cairo about strange things, about a sinister individual called Zolar."

"Yes I know you by name, you contacted my friend, Clark Kent the journalist from Metropolis."

"I thought if anyone in Europe could reach Superman, it was the reporter who broke his story in the Daily Star."

"Yes.. I can see now why you might want to speak with me, what I don't understand is how any of this, has anything to do with your brothers work?"

"You mean how can archaeologically aid the war effort?"

"Yes." Superman agreed, interested to hear the woman's explanation.

"Zolar has found an ancient source of power, and with it the disintegration weapons you saw."

"And your brother... he has knowledge of this secret."

"Yes that's it. Zolar thirst for this new power drives him to any lengths to get it, now he plans to steal all the secrets of the lost city of Ulonda, Carlton went to warn the people of that city, that the Third Reich was coming for them."

"And Zolar's agents must had discovered that Laura Vogel had tried to contact Superman?"

"Yes that's what happened."

"And these Arab's what is there story?"

"I can tell you that Superman." Akbar laughed entering the cabin where his prisoners waited. Clearly he had been listening to this conversation.

"We recognise that we must solve the question of the Jewish elements that exist in Palestine, and in other Arab countries, as required by the national and völkisch interests of the Arabs, just as the Jewish question is being solved in Germany and Italy."

Superman frowned. "That is an unholy alliance."

Akbar laughed once more. "Only a Zionist backed Crusader would see the world so back to front." He chuckled to himself once more. "You'll be interested to learn that our agents outside Ulonda report that Carlton Vogel's expedition has been destroyed by the fire of that leaves only the shadow death. So succumb all those who oppose Zolar!"

Laura Vogel began to weep, mumbling, "no, no, Carlton dead, no, no."

"We've only this scoundrel's word for that." Superman hissed. "I would like to meet this Zolar." He told Akbar loudly. The Arab's smile broadened, he was in the midst of the horror an individual who found great pleasure in his work.

"That can be easily arranged Superman, for Zolar wished to speak to you."

Akbar crossed to a control panel on the opposite wall, and a screen flickers to life.

"Oh Lord Zolar, behold whom we have captured, the mighty Superman, now rendered powerless by your magic!"

Superman recognised the face on the screen, it's youthfulness was oddly contrasted by the bald head, he was more a boy than a man, but the strong nose and sharp eyes were unmistakable.

"Luthor?" Superman asked stunned, could a man grow younger, for this what it seemed.

"I am Zolar." The face told him. "That is all you need to know." To Akbar Zolar-Luthor said. "Splendid work. Bring the Man of Steel to me."

"You may not be so arrogant when we come face to face." Superman stated.

Zolar frowned angrily. "I know how to deal with dogs such as you! You forget Superman that your tremendous strength has deserted you!"

With those words the boy-man vanished from the screen. Superman waited scanning the ground beneath them as the ship flew, water gave way to desert, and he waited patiently for Zolar to bring him to the mountain, the stronghold of this Nazi agent.

-'S'-

Carlton Vogel stood before the Priest-King of Ulonda, dressed as a Pharaoh might have been thousands of years ago, the leader of the city met with him in the temple-palace at the centre of the ancient town.

Tall columns supported the high stone ceiling, hieroglyphs decorated the walls, and large lamps burned sending their red orange light outwards casting shadows against them.

"Majesty." Carlton began. "I have travelled across the great ocean sea to warn you that a great evil means to take your city and all you possess."

"I fear your warning comes too late." The King-Priest, shook his head sadly.

Another voice addressed Carlton, but this time in English. "But your effort is appreciated." From an adjoining chamber the winged figure walked towards the archaeologist, followed by a second identical figure. No, Carlton corrected himself, the second was the feminine, to the first masculine, and strikingly so. "Hawkman, Hawkgirl!" They could be no one else.

"Greetings Carlton Vogel." Hawkman said extending his hand, his face obscured by his Hawk-like mask.

"How do you come to be here."

"That is a long story, but simply shall we say, Carter Hall let me know of your discoveries."

Carlton judged the manner of the King-Priest Ulonda was one of deference to Hawkman, Vogel reflected that the American mystery-man must seem like an avatar of Horus to this ancient culture. For him this was another mystery revealed - it was just as his rescuer had told him, the Servant of Horus and his Bride had come to the rescue of Ulonda.

Carlton folded his arms and said coolly to the Hawks.

"Not content with not sharing the secret of your power of flight with America, you come here – and for what reason? Is this your game here too, have you come to Ulonda to deny your country the advantages of their remarkable technology?"

The King-Priest's face registered his disapproval at the manner he addressed the Hawks, but Vogel didn't care, he trudged across mile after mile of the hot Sahara to get here, only to find that in all probability a Nazi agent had beaten him to the city, and worse this Zolar had seized some of the Ulandon's advanced weapons.

Hawkman intervened speaking to the Ulondan King-Priest in what was perhaps ancient Eygptian, Vogel could only guess because the tongue of the Pharaohs had become lost. The Rosetta stone had made Hieroglyphs decipherable, but not revealed the pronunciation of the spoken language.

"I am fully aware that you are working for Alsos Carlton, and I know why the President has empowered Alsos to seek Out Of Place Artifacts and Weapons of Magical Domination – that this is a race between the democracies and Axis powers – both sides want to gain the upper hand now that war has broken out in Europe, but I promised you that there are good reasons why Prince Khufu long ago decided to keep the secrets of the Thangarian Space Craft secret, and they remain compelling even today."

"Then it is true an alien race visited Earth in antiquity?"

"It is true – but if the consequences of this are about to be finally unleashed on the world, if the secret of the Plasma carbines – the weapons the Ulandon's call fire sticks was cracked open I promise you Carlton the world would tear itself apart!"

"That's not your decision to make."

"You are wrong Carlton. It was my decision then and it is now."

Vogel shook his head. Turning to the King-Priest, he switched back to Greek.

"Majesty I represent my own King from across the Ocean Sea, he has charged me to offer you safe passage, you and the sky Chariot to the United States of America, where you and your people would be safe from Zolar and his evil masters."

The King-Priest frowned, his tone still angry. "We cannot leave! We were charged by our Lord Khufu to guard the sky Chariot of Horus, and for the centuries the people of Ulonda have not shirked in this our sacred duty."

"But if Zolar wins, he will give the power of Horus to the King of Nazi's."

In English Hawkgirl stated. "Zolar will not win, the people of Ulonda will destroy this city and themselves rather than fail in protecting it's secrets."

"And are you prepared to die too?"

"It would not be the first time."

Carlton shook his head, that answer made no sense to him, but he realised that the Hawks were certain they were right, and Ulondan Priest-King was not going to persuaded by an outsider, not when an avatar of Horus was here recommending that he stand and fight. Ulonda's people were the product of generations of faith in an ideal, they were not going to be persuaded to leave their sacred trust maintained across the generations.

Carlton turned to the Hawks. "Your failure to cooperate with a mandated agent of the President of the United States has been noted."

-'S'-

Superman spied the desert Fortess Zolar's forces had occupied, peering through the metal skin of the Airship as the vessel swung around to dock to the tallest tower. A metal gantry had been bolted together from the battlements and the strange air craft let down two cables like whiskers from either side of it's nose to waiting men, who fastened this to a pulley system and the ship was tethered and drawn closer. As it did the nose of the ship opened not unlike the jaw of some beast, and this ramp was lowered until it contacted the metal deck, the cables were adjusted until the aircraft was level and true with the dock.

Superman was brought out in chains along with Laura Vogel, she walked unhindered but at gun point. One of the fat barrelled plasma weapons was pointed Superman's way, the Arab wore his protective helmet and gloves. Akbar led the prisoners to where Zolar was waiting within. They descended down the tower into the keep of the stronghold. The central hall was filled with machines and equipment, very much a mad scientists lair, a peculiar forced marriage of the ancient and modern. Akbar prodded his captives until Superman and Laura stood in the midst of this organised chaos, before a hooded figure that could only be Zolar. The hood had a visor plate, and along with it Zolar wore a dark smock and gloves, the garb was something protective, looking closely Superman concluded it was fire retardant.

Zolar removed his protective hood, and dropped it on the desk, this revealed his hairless head, sun kissed with a golden tan that the red headed Luthor would not have easily achieved, he wore a further pair of darkened goggles, but these were pushed up on his fore head. His features were in every other way a twin for a young Lex.

"So this is the mighty Superman?" the man-child laughed, gesturing to the chains around the Man of Steel. "I imagined the plasma weapon would be too much for even you."

"You appear very sure of yourself?" Superman scanned the chamber, he was startled to see how extensive facilities had been installed within the ancient walls. On the table beside Zolar-Luthor lay a dissembled plasma weapon, the carbine had been broken down and it's internal parts lay exposed.

"I see you already working hard at backward engineering the alien technology."

"You are perceptive Superman, but the real prize lies within Ulonda, or at least below it, as best as I can tell."

Superman brought the matter to a head. "Luthor how is it you are so young?" Secretly he felt he had already seen answer within this fortress, by virtue of his x-ray like vision and it was one he did not care for. He recognised this kind of work from the lab complex hidden on the farm where Krypto had been rescued from.

Zolar-Luthor bunched his fist, and threw a punch, it landed on Superman's jaw, the Man of Tomorrow staggered back, stumbling away from the assault. He tasted blood, and his lip bled. That was surprising the Man of Steel thought, wiping his mouth, as he stood tall once more. Laura Vogel fell back beside him, taking hold of his arm. The youthful Zolar-Luthor flexed his fist as if it hurt him, but he seemed satisfied with the result.

"Let's not play games Superman. I am not Lex Luthor, not the man you knew, but I share with my father his genius and from you great strength."

"Your not just a clone of Luthor... you have my powers – How is that even possible?"

"Zolar-Luthor chuckled. "I am impressed Superman by your grasp of this new science, you are not the simple brute you seem."

The Man of Tomorrow let the insult pass. The youth continued with a self satisfied smile. "The Annunki have a means of accelerating development, I was born a functioning adult with memories, and learning in place. I am a prototype, a new kind of human, superior both to you and the man you knew in Metropolis."

Superman clenched his fists, as Zolar taunted him. "Think of it, Luthor's genius – and your powers! Soon an army of super-soldiers will march to herald the glorious thousand year Reich!"

Superman shook his head. "I've had enough of this." He grabbed his steel collar and broke it from his neck, bursting his shackles by flexing his muscles. "You pack a punch Zolar, but you're no Superman."

Dismissing this show of strength with a wave of his hand Zolar-Luthor called out. "Take him down!" He adjusted the goggles he wore to cover his eyes.

The Plasma guns hissed and balls of fire hurtled towards Superman, but the Man of Tomorrow was prepared, standing to protect Laura Vogel, his fists flashed meeting the plasma, the energy crackled around him churned by the force of air displaced by his speed, and effected at the same time by Superman's innate ability to alter the mass of other objects, the very hot, very energetic excited gas, exploded back towards the men with the guns. They panicked and screamed, the plasma collided and exploded around them sending them falling like nine pins, a long strand of fire lashed out and struck out at the exposed energy cell of the dissembled weapon beside Zolar-Luthor, who turned in surprise and shock, he faced the bench trying vainly to move the cartridge from harms way, but he was not quick enough the energy cell ruptured, and Superman threw his cape around Laura and shielded his own face as the explosion of unrestrained energy caught the clone in the face.

Superman leapt upwards, leaving behind the fire ball, and by forcing his incredible strength downwards, Superman broke the stone floor beneath his feet, his back contacting the Tower wall, he held Laura Vogel to his chest, as she clung to him, the Man of Tomorrow broke out and a large section of wall tumbled away. Superman took flight as behind him Zoltar-Luthor thrashed around violently, his head was alight, and his clothes smouldered, the Nazi creation a human candle in the aftermath of the explosion. Beyond this chaos his Arab guards scrambled for safety, and above Superman the Airship began to pull away, fire roaring from its rocket vents as it swung around and reversed away from the Stronghold. Plasma Carbines hissed, launching balls of white fire at the Man of Tomorrow, but Superman avoided their chaotic trajectories. Then he heard a terrible scream, Zolar-Luthor his face still burning, leapt from the shattered tower into the air after Superman, his sky jump like that of young Clark Kent. The wind whipped past the tortured head of the clone, as the passing air snuffed out the flames, his face had been ravaged by the flames, his features destroyed his head like a blackened skull, he had torn the goggles from his eyes, the only skin that remained was his blistered eyelids, his mouth open his teeth permanently bared, as he screamed lipless. Superman accelerated, Laura Vogel safely protected by his resilient cloak, and Zoltar-Luthor's great leap fell short, and he tumbled angrily to the sand. His abilities did not match those of the Man of Steel.

Then the Airship turned on Superman, a port opened at the nose of the ship, and a great roar of fire erupted from much bigger plasma weapon, more a cannon than a carbine. Superman accelerated away from the slower moving air craft, behind him the dunes were turned to glass as the ball of fiery plasma struck the ground.

Superman crossed the desert at speed, he had seen amongst the papers in Zolar-Luthor's lab the location of Ulonda and he now powered to the lost city. In short time the Man of Tomorrow descended towards the ruined wall and associated buildings, he saw the shimmer of the strange shield that hid the greater part of the city.

-'S'-

Zolar-Luthor hit the sand hard, he did not share all the abilities of the Man of Tomorrow, he could not manipulate mass, and nullify gravity, his was a strength born from altered muscle. His creator had tried many times to capitalise on the unique genetic make up of Superman, attempting to splice together differing genetic codes, where Reynolds had always failed, Luthor had only mostly failed, with the power of Kryptonite some of his chimera's had survived, some had begun the difficult transition to adulthood through the Annunki's accelerated growth matrix. Zolar was the first Hybrid to survive to adult viability. He now bounced violently across the Sahara's Dunes, until he lay on his back, his wrecked face exposed to the sun.

Zolar heard the roaring sound of the Plasma cannon mounted to Airship. Fools! He thought – angrily he knew the weapon would not catch Superman, and each time it fired the charge in the energy cells that powered it was lowered. Through the waves of agony and confusion of consciousness and unconsciousness, Zolar could hear his father's voice. "Introduction of human genetic material into the sample has significantly improved viability of the clone embryos, now all that remains is to establish the best balance between the source code and normal proteins." Zolar-Luthor, only months old, lay close to death in the barren waste of North Africa, the adrenaline – the rage that had driven him to pursue the American Superman had past, only the pain remained, crystallising into hatred.

As Zolar lay in the heat of the sun, the Kryptonian engineered organelles – nano-biomachines within his hybrid cells began to function - but incompletely, the mutating power of Kryptonite radiation had corrupted their base code, the combination of human and Kryptonian genetic material confused this process further. Something bizarre was happening. Zolar-Luthor body began to repair itself according the mutated template provided by the corrupt Kryptonite influenced base code. What arose from the desert sands was no longer human.

-'S'-

Carlton Vogel saw the familiar S shield of Superman approach on the Priest-King's 'magic mirror' some kind of remote viewing technology.

"That's Superman." Hawkman confirmed.

"He's coming here?" He asked, watching the Man of Steel descend to the ravaged city gate.

Hawkgirl said. "Superman sent us telegram, your sister had contacted him."

"Laura?" Vogel spluttered. "What has she to do with this?"

"France has fallen." Hawkman stated.

He felt winded. "The Nazi's have invaded.. What of Paris?"

Hawkman said. "Paris is occupied."

"What? But.. but.. Laura was in studying in Paris."

Hawkgirl told him. "She made her way to Marseilles. There she contacted some American Journalists, with the hope of getting a message back to America."

"But Why?"

Hawkgirl replied. "Because the Gestapo had questioned her about your expedition, she managed to convince them she didn't know anything, but it was clear to her that _they_ did, and if they were seeking the lost city of Ulonda, then your life was in danger."

"How could the Nazi's know about Ulonda?"

Hawkman's jaw was set hard and angry as he spoke. "Because of a traitor by the name of Doctor Anton Hastor – who has the knowledge of a Priest called Hath-Set, who was present when the Thangarian space craft was discovered by Prince Khufu."

Carlton considered this saying. "That is the site of the Stronghold taken by Zolar, I mean the fortress was built where the ship crashed?"

"Correct."

"Then Ulonda,.."

"Was also called Erdu, but the name was changed after Khufu's murder, the craft was brought here to the Temple of Horus."

"This temple."

"Yes – in the intervening centuries the Ulondan Priest caste managed to use some of the remaining technology, to conceal and protect their city, the knowledge of how to operate the machines was past down the generations, but not the technical expertise."

"All the more reason to bring back these artefacts to America." Carlton observed, adding. "Perhaps Superman will be more reasonable."

-'S'-

Superman passed through the energy shield that surrounded Ulonda, where his colleagues from the Justice society waited for him. He released Laura Vogel from the confines of his cape.

"Who is this?" Hawkman asked.

Superman smiled. "This is Laura Vogel."

The blonde woman smiled warmly.

Hawkman cocked his head. He said slowly. "You are not Laura Vogel, of that I am sure."

"What!" Superman grabbed hold of the blonde imposter. Lifting the blonde woman to him Superman growled. "Who are you?"

"It does not matter!" She spat suddenly very angry. "The Airship is coming!"

"What is she talking about?" Hawkman asked.

Superman explained. "They took me aboard some kind of air craft adapted from a Zeppelin, it's armoured and the only thing I can see that is allowing it to fly is Nth Metal."

Hawkman stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It is worrying that the Nazi's have been able to take advantage of Nth metal's properties. I never expected Hath-Set to give up the secret of Ulonda."

Superman recalled Hath-Set had been reincarnated as Doctor Anton Hastor, who attempted to kill Carter and Shiera. The Justice Society had identified Hastor as being a defector to the Nazi's. "Why is that Hawkman?" Superman asked.

"Because Hath-Set has always been very jealous when it comes to the secrets of Nth Metal, he has long coveted Ulonda, he wanted this city for himself or more specifically the space craft that is hidden here – to give Ulonda up to another, to this Zolar. It seems out of character, the again I suppose the failure of the Citadel attack on London was embarrassing to him, and that by providing more information on Nth metal to his new masters allowed him to regain favour."

"I have more bad news." Superman told his friend. Hawkman frowned. He continued saying. "The Nazi airship has a Plasma cannon mounted in it's nose, I have no idea how this was done, but I recognised it as related to the smaller carbines that a handful of Zolar's Arab enforcers had been given.

"The gun must have come from Thangarin Space Ship's crash site, the main body of the craft was transported to the Temple of Horus, but there was a protruding section that was torn off in the crash, and it lay buried under the main part of the ship, at least until the Fortress was built, I guess the Ulondan's found more wreckage and preserved it in situ. It stands to reason that the Plasma cannon must have come from there."

"You will be pounded to dust." The blonde Nazi Spy declared. She had recovered from her rage, and now adopted a calmer colder demeanour.

Superman was not impressed. "Which means you will be too – if you want to save your own skin..?"

"I am Captain Bertha Holde." She answered his implied question proudly.

"She must have come with you hoping to do damage." Hawkman snarled.

"I'm not sure what her plans are, she was trying hard to win my confidence, I'm sorry to say she did - I grabbed her when I broke clear of Zolar." Superman looked at the Nazi spy. "It appears likely Miss Vogel was killed on the beach at Marseilles, and this spy betrayed her, they were together when Laura was murdered."

Bertha Holde did not deny that, rather her chin jutted out defiantly.

Before they went any further Hawkman told the soldiers of Ulonda to secure the Nazi spy Bertha Holde.

"What language were you using?" Superman asked as they watched the Nazi being led away by the city's warriors in their distinctive Egyptian garb.

"Ancient Egyptian, but many here understand Greek."

"I can make sense of that." Superman acknowledged, "I have had reason to study Greek."

Carter Hall smiled. "Diana is a beautiful woman." He said.

"It was because I encountered one of her gods." Superman replied, but he could not deny Wonder Woman was very beautiful indeed. He didn't blame his colleague, newly married and very much in love for thinking along those lines.

Hawkman smiled, but he said nothing more. Leading Superman in flight through to the centre of Ulonda, Hawkman explained that Carlton Vogel was really an operative of Alsos, charged with bringing back technology and artefacts of value.

"I understand your problem." Superman acknowledged, remembering Jor-El's warning about the dangers of very advanced technology falling into the hands of a people not yet equipped to deal with the power it brings. "I've seen what the Plasma weapons can do – if the Nazi's manage to reverse engineer any of this technology, then it could be serious indeed."

"It is unlikely they have, it's possible to use the plasma weapons without understanding the technology, in the same way a caveman would be able to shoot a rifle, but he wouldn't be able to recreate it, or replace the ammunition once it's gone. Which is the situation here, once the energy cells are discharged these Plasma weapons will be useless." Hawkman observed.

"I hope you are right."

From the central Plaza Superman followed Hawkman into the Temple of Horus.

Ulonda's Priest-King looked at the flying man suspiciously. "Zolar came with great strength and amazing powers and he was not our friend."

Hawkman vouched for Superman, but the Man of Steel felt responsible for Zolar's crimes, even if he knew that was illogical, but Zolar had powers because those had been stolen from him.

"Hawkgirl – Good to see you again."

Superman quickly explained to his colleagues what had occurred at the Stronghold, what had become of Zolar-Luthor, and what he was.

It was not however the advances in biology that caught Hawkgirls attention. "What do you mean Bertha Holde?" She asked him. Turning to Hawkman, she said. "Don't tell me you're bewitched too!"

Both men were puzzled, then as Hakman mouthed the name "Bertha Holde" he realised what his wife meant.

"German folklore, Bretcha, Bertha, Holde, - the Witch!"

"What do you mean?" Superman asked.

Hawkgirl took to the air. "Don't you see – she must have been playing you all along."

"Hawkman recognised she wasn't Laura Vogel?" Superman said following.

"That maybe, but Nth Metal raises resistance to many energies, besides if I'm right she'll find the men of Ulonda easier to manipulate than either of you."

-'S'-

Bertha Holde stood over the bodies of two soldiers charged with her detention, in her hand a bloody sword, casting this aside she ran through the streets drawn to the mystical energy that the alien space craft still radiated. She knew that the Airship would soon come to the city, and she had a mission to complete before then, to facilitate the Third Reich's victory, to lay claim to the technology that fate delivered from Thangar to Earth in the time of the Pharaoh Ramasses the Great. It was Bertha Holde that was the senior operative on this mission, Zolar for all his abilities had little actual real world experience, that he had failed, underestimated the American Superman had not surprised her, now was her opportunity to salvage the mission.

The shield above Ulonda crackled loudly as the Plasma cannon mounted on the Nazi Airship fired at the invisible city, huge balls of light tumbled from the Airship crashing against the shield, the ground vibrated because the shield more than encircled the city, it formed a sphere that disappeared underground, this proved to be a liability as building's shook, and masonry fell.

The people screamed and began to flee, in the crowd Bertha Holde ran with the native Ulondans towards the centre of the town, they for safety, she because of the prize lay beneath the Temple-Palace.

The peoples haste was not without good reason, for Ulonda's shield faltered. The plasma cannon's fire balls now punched through the weakened force field smashing buildings apart and setting alight anything flammable; the heat melting the rock itself. The Shield shimmered once more and contracted, strengthening as it did so, but if you were unlucky to be outside it's bounds you were both exposed and excluded. The stolen plasma cannon's fire fell once more onto the surface of the smaller force field, the shield shook, but held, at least for now. The people of Ulonda, their bright colourful accessories, contrasting to the white of the pleated clothes now began to enter the catacombs below the Temple-Palace, the last place of safety should the shield ultimately fail.

As Bertha Holde moved her form changed, from the Nordic beauty to the dark robes of shadow, she became the hag, the witch, the crone of myth, she lost substance like a wind the witch drove towards the heart of Ulonda, before sinking ghostlike into the ground to plunge into the depths of the Thangarian War Birds tomb.

-'S'-

Shiera Hall flew on alone. Superman and Hawkman even now rose to challenge the Airship which had begun the bombardment of the city. Hawkgirl flew from the Temple Courts into the heart of the building, through the open tomb and into the underground chamber where the Thangarian War bird rested. In the beginning the Priests who had been charged with the safe keeping of the technology had come to understand much, in recent centuries much of that learning had been forgotten, however the machines that had been taken from the innards of the damaged craft still stood around the spacecraft, like a mummified royal, her vital organs removed to preserve her in death. Among these was mechanism that generated the defensive field around Ulonda, once it had been the ships shield, and for centuries until Anton Hastor – Hath -Set had betrayed them, Ulonda had remained hidden.

Shiera hovered and her heart skipped a beat when her eyes saw once again in this her new lifetime the ancient Thangarian Space craft whose Nth Metal core had been forged into the knife that had slain them in the distant past, binding their spirits together for lifetime after lifetime.

The Priest-King of Ulonda hands rested on the control surface of the shield, studying the patterns there, if the shield faltered again he would reduce the size of the envelope in order to conserve it's power. With him stood the archaeologist Carlton Vogel, he had a pistol in hand and stood defensively.

Shiera came to a halt beside him, scanning the shadows in the crypt for a sign of her quarry. Dust fell from the ceiling of the tomb as the ground shuddered, the bombardment creating deep tremors. "This is madness." Shiera said. "If this continues they will destroy what they want to possess."

"I won't argue with you about that." Carlton paused. He looked grave. "Perhaps that would be for the best – eh?"

"Carlton, Hawkman and I might not think the world is ready for Thangarian technology, that doesn't mean we want it destroyed, or this city for that matter."

"If the shield is reduced again, what will be left?"

Shiera could not answer him, the truth was stark. "We may not have the luxury of a choice she acknowledged.

Suddenly the Priest-King staggered backwards his hands pressed to his chest, Shiera turns and sees the shadow form of the witch Berth Holde her hands dipping inside the Ulondan's body. Hefting her spear she thrust it's sharp iron into the insubstantial form created by the witches magic, energy sparked between them and the mystically made Nth metal of her wings sparked, the iron spears tip became hot in an instant, and the witch was driven back, her ancient magic inherently weakened by iron, but she cleverly stepped backwards through the console that controlled the energy shield protecting Ulonda, and as she did the Nazi Witch tore at the interior circuitry, the panel snapped, its smooth surface flickered with random lights and died, and with it the shield.

-'S'-

Superman and Hawkman flew to meet the Nazi Airship, there plan was a simple one, gain entry and neutralise the threat. Superman was angry with himself, angry that he had failed Laura Vogel, angry he had brought the Witch Bertha Holde into Ulonda, magic again his Achilles heel.

The man of steel came at the ship head on, but skilfully avoiding the plasma cannon, his speed and size making him an impossible target. Superman banked at the last moment, hitting the steel skin with his heat vision, cutting through the hull. It seemed all was going to end quickly and simply, then the steel panel exploded outwards towards him, as a figure charged at him from within the Airship, hurling the metal at the Man of Tomorrow as a makeshift weapon.

Superman dodges the steel, as the figure continues to fall upon him.

The dark suit is that of an SS officer, but the face is like nothing Superman had every seen before, shockingly at odds with nature. It was nothing less than translucent glass-like skull of non other than Zolar – for in that moment Superman did not doubt this was who attacked him. The bizarre head of the Nazi agent glinted in the sunlight, as if carved from ice, his black blue eyes dark and angry behind opaque white lids. Zolar's face as it was destroyed by the plasma fire, stripped of features to the bone, now transformed into something else, living crystal, becoming opaque within to the milky centre of Zolar's brain. It was perhaps this impossible vision that caused Superman to pause, as his x-ray like vision reveals the full extent of this incredible transformation. The glass like quality his ravaged skull possesses continues, Zolar is entirely like misted glass, his internal organs giving his form hints of pastel colour. As Superman absorbs the mutation that has taken place to the clone, this brief hesitation is enough for Zolar to take hold of the Man of Steel. Together they wrestle in the air.

Superman sees Hawkman swoop down past them, Cater Hall does not hesitate, he leaves Superman to fight his own battle, and proceeds with the plan, diving inside the Airship, the safety of those below depend upon his success. The Man of Tomorrow tries to break the grip of Zolar, but the Nazi Agent's touch suddenly shakes Superman to the core, as the clone angrily releases a burst of telekentic energy, in essence a raw adaptation of the Kryptonian ability to alter mass, but channelled against Superman as a weapon. Superman feels like he is been shaken apart, and it hurts, he stiffens and falls, temporarily stunned and confused, his brain rattles in his own skull. Together he and Nazi agent tumble to the city below, smashing into the street, breaking the paving stones, the impact jerks Superman free from Zolar's grasp, and the Man of Tomorrow rolls free.

The Nazi agent stands, his black uniform is no longer crisp, but dusty and torn, beneath his coat, the translucency of his body revealed through the tears. He screams through his lipless mouth.

"Superman behold your nemesis – behold the Crystal Skull!"


	59. Chapter 59

-'S'-

Bullets fly within the steel belly of the flying whale, but Hawkman presses on through the hail, the metal of his shield catching some, others avoided given the speed and precision of the Nth metal charged reflexes. Where blood is drawn his accelerated healing ability closes the wounds as Hawkman fights. The mighty mace in his hands, Carter's preferred weapon, sends the Arab enforcers sprawling, at least in the confines of the Airship they seem unwilling to fire one of the precious Thangarian Plasma Carbines while in flight. Hawkman smashes open the hatches between him and the cannon, Superman had cut into the hull close to the main weapon.

Now Hawkman can see his objective, his memories of the ancient time when his former self Prince Khufu explored the wrecked space craft come to the fore. Hawkman recognises the cannon salvaged long ago from the sands, and now mounted within the steel clad hull of the airship.

Hawkman hurls his mace into the delicate control surfaces, it's solid impact is followed by a crackle and spit as these shatter, safety measures engage, and the weapon powers down. As the mace rests lodged in the body of the gun, Hawkman falls on the technicians overseeing the plasma cannon, disarming them of their luger pistols and bringing them unconsciousness. With well aimed and disciplined blows, the white coated Nazi's fall to the deck. Now Hawkman recovers his mace before pressing on towards the heart of the matter, to where the precious Nth Metal was being pressed into service. Superman had told him what to expect, and for a man with memories of many lives he recognised the scene he found.

The hatch exploded, the metal bent and gave way, opened by Hawkman's mace shaped key. At the heart of the Nazi airship was the means Zolar had employed to defy gravity.

Just as Hawkman and Hawkgirl relied on the mystical connection between their life energy and living energy of the Nth Metal alloy, so Zolar had applied Aton Hastor once Hath-Set's knowledge, and enslaved the guardians of the Ulondan fortress, the Priest-King's Monks had been shackled in place and forced to bond with these Nth metal harnesses, collectively these men were coming together with the Nth metal to provide the lift which permitted this latter day slave galley to fly.

The Arab overseer carried a bull whip, but this more for status and effect, the men themselves were connected to the ships electrical system, a modern means of inflicting pain to ensure compliance.

The appearance of an avatar of Horus filled the men with renewed hope, and in ancient Egyptian Carter Hall once Prince Khufu addressed the descendants of his loyal retainers.

"Take the craft down." He told them as his punch felled the overseer, and Hawkman tossed him the Arab enforcer across the deck

The Airship lurched and descended. However the Nazi pilot was not amused by this, his harsh shouting relayed over a speaker to his 'engine' room. Then as it struck the pilot that no proper reply was coming the captain resorted to one desperate last ditch action, he flooded the Airship with gas.

Hawkman tasted the bitter lethal cocktail as it spewed from the air vents, it's effect on the galley crew was stark, robbed of consciousness the bond between man and metal was broken, and the Airship now lurched into free fall.

-'S'-

Superman fought to hold the self proclaimed Crystal Skull, who behaved as a creature possessed of rage and madness, the change to his physical form clearly disturbed Zolar's sanity, but not his dedication to the cause, and the Crystal Skull pushed towards Ulonda, Superman fought him to a standstill, in many ways the Man of Steel had advantages over his foe, having true flight and greater strength, but the Crystal Skull had a bodily form that was inherently tougher, it was unyielding, and Superman was reminded of fighting another Nazi monster, Baron Blitzkrieg.

Superman out boxed the younger more volatile Zoltar, his punch carried the Nazi Agent hurtling through the outer limits of Ulonda, like a wrecking ball the Crystal Skull smashed through buildings and bounced up and through the city wall. Superman flexed his hand, the pain from his knuckles told him he was hurt, but he hadn't time to reflect, the tumbling Airship was about to crash land onto the city streets. Taking to the air, Superman with his good hand caught the round body of the vehicle against his shoulder, and taking the weight he strained as he arrested the aircraft's fall. Looking within the Hull he saw Hawkman had acted, smashing his way out of the ship, releasing gas from the galley slave room.

Flexing his hand Superman felt not only Hawkman take the weight of the falling Airship, but his own tissues healing as his incredible metabolism repaired the damage. The respite in his fight against Zolar however permitted the Crystal Skull to strike towards his goal.

-'S'-

Sheira Hall watches as Carlton Vogel attempts to resuscitate the downed King-Priest of Ulonda, Hawkgirl with her spear circles the shadowy form of Bertha Holde, the Nazi Witch.

"You are wise American to bring iron to a fight with a Witch, new steel would not be quite so sharp to one empowered by magics of the fairy realms."

"Twice wise, this spear is blessed against black magic."

The witch hissed at this revelation. Hawkgirl feinted with her spear, and struck with her gauntlet at the ghostly face of her enemy. Bertha Holde ripped back at her with her claw like nails, drawing blood, as Shiera's released into the midst of her shadow phosphorous powder, which ignited as she broke the sealed vial, the fire burned bright white light in the darkness of the chamber, the Witch screamed as the flames shattered her shadow form, she fell back from the flash of light, and forced to return to her fleshly state. Hawkgirl stepped back the blood from the cuts to her arms already stemmed, as she healed at an accelerated rate. Bertha Holde spat a spell of dark magic at Shiera, summoning the shadows from the corners of the room into broad black tentacles that lashed at Hawkgirl trying to entrap the warrior, but she spread through them her wings that flashed metallic like two great blades flicking out severing the blackness with light, the Nth Metal glimmered in the darkness with a blue white luminescence.

Carlton Vogel angry at the murder of Priest-King, brought his gun to bare, the Witch saw him and launched a dagger from her hand that flew with magical accelerated accuracy striking him in the heart, he coughed and croaked, falling to his knees.

Shiera now took advantage of his sacrifice, and threw her spear forward, it shot true towards the blonde Nazi agent, who dived out of it's path, only to meet the spinning bolas loosed from Hawkgirls belt. Sheira's aim was true and well judged, the Spear struck the wall, holding fast, the work of distraction done, and the bolas hurled with her free hand, found it's mark, the legs of Bertha Holde. The Witch's legs were held tightly bound together, as the three weighted balls of the Boleadora swept around them, the leather cord that attached them one to other wrapping around the Nazi agents calves, smacking together the round weights as the spinning weapon struck. Hawkgirl flew to her, and a curved knife was pressed against the felled agent's neck.

"It does not matter." Bertha Holde spat. "I have succeeded, the shield is down!"

Then crashing into the room behind her came the sound like thunder, Hawkgirl did not hesitate and quickly rendered the spy unconscious with a well placed blow to Bertha Holde's head, and span to face the Crystal Skull. Hawkgirl gasped, nothing had prepared her for the vision of a ghost sculptured it seemed from diamond, Zolar's jacket had been lost in his sprint to the underground chamber, now his reflective torso, filled with the pale translucent pastels of his organs was visible to the world. His dark eyes, the last human vestige in his starkly carved defleshed crystal skull, now looked to the broken body of the Thangarian War Bird.

Hawkgirl charged, her gauntlets extended into a double fisted upper cut, she drove the Crystal Skull into the ceiling of the tomb, with all the force her Nth Metal wings could bring to bear, the concussive blast was enough to drive the Nazi agent out into the Temple-Palace of Ulonda, behind them the stone floor of the Temple collapsed, the ceiling of the Tomb fell, filling the entrance stairs with rubble.

The Crystal Skull reacts violently, lashing out, and sending Hawkgirl spilling into the upright columns of the Temple, she folds around one of the tall stone pillars, stunned.

The Crystal Skull begins to dig his way back down to the space ship, sending broken masonry flying as he cast rock aside.

Superman drives into him from behind sending him sprawling across the floor, smashing into the far wall. The Crystal Skull looks back at the Man of Steel angrily and charges at him head down like an enraged bull, he bellows, Superman lets him catch hold, and reciprocates, yanking the Nazi Agent back, he flies as Crystal Skull rains punches on to him, his face swells with pummelling, as the clones diamond like hands pound Superman to fast for the human eye to behold, and in a split second the two combatants are outside in the plaza, Superman keeps flying, as the clone directs his jarring telekentic powers into Superman. It felt like he was being shaken apart, but Superman gritted his teeth, and flew on carrying the Nazi agent out of Ulonda, split seconds past, before the two figures finally smashed down to ground, hitting the Sahara, cutting through the dunes. Superman fought with all of his strength breaking the Crystal Skulls terrible grasp and kicking his opponent clear, Superman sends the Nazi Agent flying backwards, further away from Ulonda, and sighs. The Man of Tomorrow glad of the moment to breathe, to wince at his bruises, before launching skyward once more to dive down onto the Crystal Skull to drive him back towards the Stronghold he had taken from Ulonda.

-'S'-

Carter Hall helped his wife to her feet, Shiera kissed him weakly, and winced, holding her cracked ribs, but already the Nth metal field was healing her injuries. Hawkman smashed his way back into the tomb. Hawkgirl followed, she found the body of Carlton Vogel, in death united with his sister, the Witch Bertha Holde was still unconscious, Hawkman investigated the broken panel, and shook his head, and entered the Thangarian War Bird.

Prince Khufu's hands had been guided by the preternatural Nth metal and Hawkman had discovered much in his previous incarnation, and now he put that knowledge to good use, the secondary systems flickered into life, still viable after three thousand years, and Hawkman engaged the artificial intelligence with whom he had first communed as Khufu. As the ancient computer checked the integrity of the shield, accessing web of cables that ran out into the systems removed from the broken ship, the AI regained control by rerouteing systems. After what seemed a long silence the machine the Ulondan's had named the Oracle of Horus told Hawkman that only one choice remained, one that would mean the loss of Ulonda to the world.

-'S'-

Superman fought the Crystal Skull in the sands unrestrained, there was no fear of damage to people or property in this wasteland, and the Man of Tomorrow had but one aim, to drive the Nazi back to his hastily constructed laboratory within the Ulondan Fortress. He avoids the clones touch, punch after punch driving him back, his fists bleed with the effort, his resilient flesh breaking on the diamond hard skin of the bizarre Zolar.

With a powerful punch the Man of Steel rocketed the Crystal Skull back into the walls of the Stronghold. Crashing down upon him, and driving the Nazi Agent through the structure into the chambers below. The building was sparsely manned, most of the Arab enforcers had been within the felled Airship. Seeing the building shake, most fled, some still loyal enough – fanatical enough, grabbed their remaining plasma carbines, and ran to face the attack.

Superman boxes with the Crystal Skull, they exchange blows, Superman's experience shows, his street fighting style learned the hard way, the younger man, the clone, has his own talents, perhaps learned in the strange process that saw him born an educated adult, at least Superman knew that was his claim.

The Arab fanatics aimed the Plasma Carbines at the blur of movement, and because the combatants move at speed faster than the human eye, they hesitate, Superman takes advantage of this hesitancy, and wrestles his opponent to the deck, exposing his back, his shield on his cloak a clear target an incitement to the Crystal Skull's minions. His super human senses hears the hiss of the plasma carbines firing, and now the Man of Tomorrow throws the clone around – at such speed, the air cracks, but it is now Zolar who atop of their fight, exposing his back to the flashing balls of yellow fire, the Arab's have fired targeting the Man of Steel, but the plasma fire smacks into the Crystal Skull. The Nazi agent shakes as the plasma strikes, and he collapses.

Superman now flies at speed, smack, his fist contacts one Arab soldier after another until each lies unconscious, relieving each of their alien weapon. He sees others among their number had taken their horses and were fleeing, his telescopic vision confirms that they do so without the advanced weapons of their superiors.

Now Superman is free to deal with the Crystal Skull, and his legacy at the Ulondan Fortress. The Man of Steel shakes the stunned clone, he lives, but the shock of the multiple plasma attack has affected him greatly. Superman crashes down pushing Zolar down with him into the cellar level, he shakes him once more and the Crystal Skull stirs, Zolar's eyes open and flicker, the only feature on his ruined face still able to register emotion, within Superman sees both shock and surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Superman demanded, gesturing to the laboratory, around them unmistakable pitiful cries for help were heard in the ancient language of Ulonda, interspersed with universal language of crying children, and wailing babies.

The Lower level was equipped with cloning paraphernalia, Superman recognised the process from the Gamma Reynolds lab, from the legacy of the Ultra Humanite. He smelled in the air the stench of humans confined, the smell of fear and tears.

"I am trying to learn, to understand my own genesis?" The Crystal Skull spat, is that so hard to understand?"

"What have you done to these people?" Superman gestured to the cages containing the imprisoned, from their appearance he could tell these were men and women of Ulonda, perhaps they had been unlucky to be present at the Fortress outpost when Zolar and his fascist Arab forces had stormed the Stronghold.

"They are but labour." The Crystal Skull Spat, he tried to strike Superman, who realised that the clone had not yet grasped, or at least learn to control his telekentic touch, which was at last some good news. The Man of Tomorrow pressed on.

"And the children – the babies?" Superman could see some were held separately, some of the youngest were caged with their mothers.

"I.. I have tried to repeat the success my father had with Baron Blitzkrieg."

"What?" Superman slammed the Crystal Skull against the wall, the Fortress shook.

"That's right American. Baron Blitzkrieg is a product of biological engineering."

"You monsters – this is what Lex Luthor is doing in Germany?" Superman was stunned the American defector could become a Frankenstein, rejecting his humanity, he thought sadly of the bright young man he met at Metropolis field, the evidence in his hands, around him in the cellar of this Stronghold told him that Lex Luthor was as good as dead, and someone far sinister lived.

Zolar spat. "Bah! Science demands,..." Superman didn't let the Nazi finish his self justification, pressing his forearm against the neck of Zolar. "What is going to happen to the children?"

"The reaction to the serum has been mixed." The Nazi gasped, his crystalline structure still yielded to sufficient pressure, weakened as he was, the wall behind the back of Zolar crumbled, dust and grit fell as Superman pushed and pulled the Crystal Skull in his grip.

Zolar wheezed. "They either die, or they live, if they live, they either show a reaction to the serum, or not."

"Have any reacted?"

"Yes, but they did not live long, and they were all good German stock, after these were spent, I decided to test the Ulondan's but the natives did not fair any better."

"You brought children with you?"

"I brought with me test subjects, Herr Luthor was generous – he understood and approved of my interest."

Superman could not believe what he was hearing. It was inhuman.

"How many live?"

The Crystal Skull stared back at the Man of Steel, Superman repeated his question, with extra pressure.

"One."

"One?"

"Of those tested only one lives, one who showed no reaction." Superman followed the eyes of the Crystal Skull to a single crib.

Superman released him, and Zolar slumped to ground, as the Man of Tomorrow checked on the child from where he stood, save for neglect during the crisis the child appeared in good health. Superman quickly released the captives, opening their cages with a burst of super speed.

In ancient Greek he spoke, hoping someone in their number spoke the language. "Ulonda is free."

Clearly someone did, because his words were translated quickly, and a tired cheer arose. Many looked across to the Crystal Skull with a mixture of revulsion and curiosity, they had no way of recognising their recently transformed tormentor.

Shortly Hawkman and Hawkgirl descended into the basement levels of the Fortress, passing through the ruined walls and broken floors. Hawkgirl placed the still unconscious witch Bertha Holde onto the floor of the cellar, she clearly had thought it unwise to leave the Nazi agent in the city.

Hawkman quickly addressed the assembled Ulondan's, he spoke in ancient Egyptian, Superman could tell however from both his grave expression and the reaction of those listening that the news was serious. The people began to quickly disperse, gathering what they could carry.

Carter Hall then explained himself to the Man of Tomorrow. "The alien ship has a machine that thinks..."

"An artificial intelligence." Superman stated, Hawkman acknowledged that they had a common understanding.

"Essentially the shield is damaged, the Witch did some of that, but Zolar's repeated attacks have done their part too. Basically the only way to secure Ulonda once again – to keep the city safe, and to be sure Thangarian technology doesn't get into the wrong hands, is to engage the Space Ships space-warping matrix."

"Which will warp space?" Superman considered the implication, but he needed an explanation, which Hawkman provided.

"Yes – creating a bubble around the city, and displacing it from the normal space-time, while the matrix is engaged it will impossible for anyone to pass through to Ulonda, or for anyone to leave.

"And the city and it's gardens, the artesian well that serves them?"

"The field will create a bubble around the whole city, it will be deep enough to capture the well, simply the artificial intelligence said this was possible because the ship isn't going anywhere."

Hawkgirl suggested. "Broad and long and still, rather than small and fast and rapid."

"I see." Superman observed, watching the Ulondan's fleeing the Fortress.

"As soon as all who wish are safely inside the city's limits, the Thangarian thinking machine will warp space-time around Ulonda, they will be out of phase with the rest of the world, safe again."

"If the Ulondans are happy with that arrangement, then it seems for the best." Superman agreed.

Hawkman looked at the Crystal Skull, who lay slumped against the wall of cellar.

"What about him?"

"That is a good question." Superman acknowledged, he went on to explain what the Nazi agent had been doing to his own people, and the captured Ulondans.

Hawkgirl was visibly upset, and angry. "I would grind him into the sands." She spat, picking up the baby in her arms. "You say this child will be fine?"

"So says Zolar, I have checked him over, but I can't find anything unusual in his biology. He is the only test subject to survive and to be sure he is okay, I'll have to run further tests myself, I couldn't allow him to return with Ulondan's - not knowing what he may become, besides he's, an orphan I guess, or at least a foundling."

Looking through the levels of the Stronghold and then out across the desert, Superman saw the Fortress complex was now abandoned, the last of the Arab enforcers, who he had disarmed, had been taken captive by the Ulondan's and were being marched back to the city to join the other prisoners, the alien plasma carbines were now back in the hands of there long standing guardians.

"I wonder what Ulondans will do to Zolar's men."

Hawkman folded his arms saying. "They have laws Superman, laws these men have broken, this is their City-State after all."

Superman could not help think that those laws were likely to be brutal, but his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement. Hawkgirl reacted instantly taking flight carrying the child to safety, the dark shadow of the witch Bertha Holde washed over the cellar floor, as she took on her ghostly form, and hissed.

"Zolar! What have they done to you."

Slowly the Nazi agent got to his feet, he shook his fist at the Man of Tomorrow. "I am changed, some unforeseen consequence of massive trauma - I believe to my body in healing itself evolved spontaneously into a more durable form."

Superman said nothing, but he knew the living nano-biomachines in his own cells were designed to both heal and improve, but they were constrained to ensure the Kryptonian template remained human in appearance, whatever Luthor had done to bypass the safeguards, and Superman suspected it had to be Kryptonite given its power to mutate living things, meant that the Crystal Skull and Baron Blitzkrieg had been altered into something inhuman by the stolen and mutated nano-biomachines.

Hawkman had acted, his mace ready, Superman did not doubt he too was troubled by thoughts of stolen heritage, because just as Superman's Kryptonian nature had been taken from him and twisted so had the Thangarian technology that had given Hawkman and Hawkgirl their unique abilities and their many lives together coloured by both great tragedy and great love.

The Witch suddenly moved, a plasma carbine appearing in her hands, Bertha Holde had obtained the weapon apparently pulling it from a hidden compartment, drawing this magically through solid rock. She aimed this at Hawkman while the revitalised Crystal Skull charged at Hawkman. Carter Hall roared. "Castle."

Superman understood him, Castling is a chess move, and it's the only time in the game when more than one piece moves at one time. In a split second Superman and Hawkman sidestepped around each other, swapping enemies, Superman punched the fiery ball of Plasma loosed by the Witch Bertha Holde, and it bounced back toward her, at the same time Hawkman swung his mace into the Crystal Skull and he fell back into the plasma's fire, and further he tumbled at speed into the smoky shadows of the insubstantial ghostly form of the Witch Bertha Holde, an unearthly scream arose, as both fire ball and Zolar came together in the black magical mist. From the carbine rifle came a wisp of blue electrical fire, and Superman acted, having seen this happen once before, he threw himself in front of Hawkman, who reacted simultaneously, his Nth metal enhanced senses willing him to fly away, together the two heroes leapt from the cellar, and the plasma carbine exploded, engulfing both the Crystal Skull and Witch Bertha Holde in a ball of white hot fire.

The consequence was immediate, for the explosive concussion was more intense and the fire ball larger than the earlier event which had cost Zolar his face, Superman realised this weapon must have been more fully charged, more over the lower levels contained a fuel dump, and other volatile materials and munitions, in moments the whole fortress was consumed in random explosions until finally a terrible boom shook the surrounding desert.

"What was that?" Superman asked.

"I believe it was a bigger fuel cell, they must have found it at the crash site when the Fortress was built." Hawkgirl suggested.

Sure enough the desert Stronghold was gone, devastated, and only a blackened crater remained.

Superman could not help thinking it was a fitting end to both the Crystal Skull and his companion the Witch Bertha Holde.

The three heroes waited in the sky over the Sahara watching the last of Ulondans return to their ravaged city, then as they cross the outer defensive wall into the irrigated gardens of the perimeter a bubble of light forms around Ulonda, and encompassing the whole city in a vast sphere only half of which was visible above the ground. Ulonda now phased out of existence leaving behind it a perfect crater. The Sahara's winds immediately began to fill the vast bowl with sand.

"When will Ulonda return?" Superman asked.

"Perhaps next century", Hawkman replied with a wry smile, "perhaps we will be more civilised by then."

"I hope so." Superman agreed taking from Hawkgirl the baby which Zolar had abused in his experiments, the fair haired boy gurgled in Superman's arms, and he struck out for America and his Secret Citadel.

-'S'-

Pa ruffled his hair. "Clark I don't know about this." He tapped his pipe on the table. "We're not getting any younger you know."

Clark looked around the well appointed General Store that Jonathan Kent had invested in. His parents had returned to Smallville to take over this shop, and his Pa was enjoying his new role as a store keeper, and man about town, while Alfie Jones continued to run the Kent Farm on his behalf.

Martha held the little boy Superman had rescued from Zolar. "He is adorable."

Clark explained his dilemma. "I would turn him over to the authorities, but although I'm pretty sure he won't develop super powers – I can't be absolutely certain." Clark reflected on how the Avatars of his birth parents – the holograms of Jor-El and Lara, had told him the same thing, once their scans of the baby had been completed. The foundling was apparently normal, but there was no guarantees where Kryptonite was involved. "If I turn him over to the authorities, and something odd happens - it might lead to questions being asked."

Jonathan Kent stuck his pipe in his mouth, and lit it.

"Would that be so bad?" He asked his son, jabbing the stem in Clark's direction.

"Jonathan don't smoke around the baby." Martha said.

Clarks Pa sighed heavily and looked exasperated.

Clark felt bad about that, but he explained. "The thing is Pa I can't be sure what the authorities would do if this child _did_ develop any strange abilities, I don't want to see him experimented on any further."

"They wouldn't do that? Our government? Would they Jonathan?" Martha asked drawing the child to her bosom.

Pa Kent puffed defiantly on his pipe. "You can bet they would do just exactly that. They'd put him one of those laboratories and stick him full of needles just to see what made him different." Then the older Kent swung around to Clark. "It was hard enough dealing with you, and a baby at our age..."

"Like I said, he probably won't develop any special abilities, and I'm sure Mrs Jones would be glad to help, her and Alfie." Clark sighed, he did feel guilty about this. "Look I don't know what to do. I need to keep a eye on this child, but I can't give up being Superman, being Clark Kent reporter,.."

"Now son, hush down there." Jonathan said. "I'm old, but I'm no fool. I don't know what we'll say to Smallville, people will jump to all sorts of conclusions."

"Lots of children are being evacuated from Europe." Clark said. "Perhaps his parents died in the Blitz over London?"

"That's quite a tale."

Martha Kent nodded saying. "But not so far from the truth, you have family in England Jonathan, I remember your Grandfather telling me a story about a Sir Brian Kent, wasn't he a Knight or something."

"I guess we could say he was family." Pa mumbled.

"That's a wonderful idea." Martha agreed to something her husband hadn't exactly proposed. "I think I shall call him Jonathan. Jonathan Kent Junior."


	60. Chapter 60

1941

"That was a funny short." Lois said to Clark. "Okie pass the popcorn won'tcha?"

Clark obliged.

"I like the character, the rabbit with the Brooklyn accent."

"You mean Bugs Bunny?"

"Is that what they're calling him? Catchy."

"Shhhh." A voice in the darkness insisted.

"Hush Clark – the main feature is about to begin." Lois said sticking her tongue out into the darkness.

A little over a hour and half later the two reporters exit the Metropolis movie theatre.

"I enjoyed that Clark, thank you for asking me – you were right it was nice to transported out of the real world for a little while."

Lois paused next to the poster for the movie they had just seen, pointing at the image of the Genie that featured in 'The Thief of Baghdad' she said. "Okay – say you had three wishes, what would they be Clark?"

"Well..."

"No cheating, no wishing for extra wishes now."

"Errrm, I guess given the season just gone, I'd have to say peace on Earth Lois, for starters, then maybe an end to hunger – well call that poverty of food and materials, and disease, yes an end to sickness that would be good."

"Oh Clark you are so noble at times, can't you just live a little bit."

"Well Miss Lane – what would you wish for, say Superman on plate maybe."

"Pleeeaaase – that ship has so sailed... I mean after that business in France, he wasn't particularly nice you know."

"He must have had his reasons."  
"Whatever Clark, I guess you're right." Lois tucked her arm into his. "I like it you're so warm."

"So what would be your three wishes?" Clark asked, quickly changing the subject.

Lois smiled at him. "Three Wishes? Seriously Clark, I'm not that demanding – oh I can see you had me pegged as a high maintenance woman, but see here kid I can manage with just the one wish – thank you so very much."

Clark laughed out loud. "Okay Lois hit me with it, what's this one wish?"

"Why Clark the power of persuasion, of course – hey don't frown at me, think about it, you could persuade anyone to do anything – and they'd do it thinking it was their idea all along."

"Kind of like super-mesmerism." Clark said.

Lois shrugged. "Aren't you glad to be back in the good ole' US of A?"

"Metropolis does feel like home now."

"Really? I thought with your Parents back in Smallville, that after Christmas there you'd feel that way about Kansas."

"It's different, a new house, the Kent General Store, it just wasn't the same as the farm."

"Maybe I need to quit calling you Okie."

"Maybe you should."

Lois hailed a cab. "See you at the Star Kent."

-'S'-

"What's that Mr Kent." Jimmy Olsen asked.

Clark looked up from the document. "It's the Lend Lease Act – It's kind of important if Democracy is to survive in Europe."

"Sounds kinda dry reading, if you ask me." Curly Lombard remarked.

"Nobody did." George Taylor snapped. "Kent, Lane in my office."

"Anything I can do Mr Taylor Sir?" Oslen asked. "Sure, tell Alice I need more coffee pronto."

Clark closed the glass partition door, Lois had taken a seat across from Taylor, he lent against the door.

Yesterday's paper lay open on Taylor's Desk, the page three headline read "House of Representatives passes the Lend-Lease Act (260–165)."

"Okay team, Senator Billingsley is to speak at the new Metropolis National Hall building at Covenant Circle Gardens Auditorium – it's going to be a response to Charles Lindbergh testimony before Congress – he's going to outline why America should _not_ sign a neutrality pact with the Nazi's."

"Somehow I _can_ believe Lindbergh wants us to follow Joe Stalin's example, and sign up." Lois said. "But still Chief, can't you find something... well more interesting?"

"I know you have bitter memories from the America First Rally." Taylor noted.

"Well a girl doesn't forget being framed for a murder."

"And you just love Politics don't you Lois?" Clark suggested.

"Now boys and girls, let's play nice." Taylor lit a cigarette. "I've been informed on the quiet that someone calling himself 'The Light' has issued a warning that Billingsely will never speak at that meeting."

"Does the Senator's office have anything to say about this threat?" Kent asked.

"You're right I did ask if I could speak Billingsley, or at least get a quote from him – but they stonewalled me, all I got was that the Senator never commented on Poison Pen Letters written by attention seeking cranks."

"So what's the word – whose behind this - Fifth columnists, Nazi agents, America First?"

"No idea – that's why I pay you investigative reporters wages Lois."

"Gee thanks boss, I was only asking. Come on Clark, let's hit the street, we've only a few hours before the Senator is due on stage."

Clark grabbed his fedora. "Gee Lois, what's the rush?"

Lois pushed through the outer doors of the Newsroom. "While you were reading – I was working some old contacts, trying to get a sense of what really happened in Metropolis, while we were gone."

"And one these guys might be able to shine a light – on the light as it were."

"Ha ha Cowboy. Yeah something like that."

-'S'-

"I'm here to see Slam Shorty, no run around Okay, I don't care if it's Delores De Winters in there with him, tell him Lois Lane is here."

Shorty who was no Little John, rather he lived up to his name, all five foot one of it, his nose seemed to be trying to make up for the lack of stature, and his clothes didn't fit him either. Clark wasn't laughing, Shorty had considerable muscle mass packed in under the bigger fit coat and pants; and given the way the smaller man had weighed him up, Clark was willing to bet that there was a smart operator hiding behind the comedy pastiche.

Clark scanned the offices of Sam 'Slam' Bradley Private Detective. Low rent they situated in the China Town district, on the Southside District. A recent lick of paint had lifted the drab rooms, but not much.

"Clark Kent." He said holding out his hand to the smaller man, thinking it takes a faker to recognise a faker. "It seems you already know Lois."

"Al Pratt – though most people call me Shorty. Original it ain't but it could be worse I guess."

"Yeah don't mind the kid." Bradley said, as he pushed open the door to his office, his shirt was ripped open, Clark could see he'd been in fight. The tall muscular man was quickly followed by a bottle blonde, who almost tripped as she left. Slam caught her arm. "Watcha' step Toots. Now run along Slam's got some business to do."

"With that dame?" She whined. "What kinda business?"

"Bowler's little girl?" Slam laughed. "Nah I like a good scrap, but I'm not suicidal." The comment was clearly directed at Lois.

"How is the Colonel?" Bradley added.

"Ornery." Lois replied. "This is..."

"Kent. I heard – since when have you had a partner in tow Lane?"

"Since June 38."

"It's really been three years." Bradley noted, saying. "So you're back in town. Europe wasn't it? Stitches said so." Clark noted Bradley was friends with Taylor as well Colonel Lane. He figured Slam was just old enough to have served in France in the last war, the shrapnel he spied in his left leg confirmed Bradley had.

"I'm not the only one back in the Golden Apple." Lois fired back. "Cleveland wasn't it, then New York – where next Gotham?"

"Maybe." Bradley shrugged. "Give me a minute. I'm sure Shorty will find you some coffee."

Slam returned having found a fresh shirt and au de cologne which masked the smell of last night's bar fight.

"Okay Lois – what gives."

"What do you know about a nutjob calling himself The Light?

Bradley reached out for a mug of black Americano. "Not much, you're in the wrong part of town, from what I hear he's more a St. Martin's Island sort of thing."

Clark lent forward. "Why would the rich and powerful be interested in this Light character?"

"That's the rub Kent, for what I heard it's all cloaky hokum stuff."

"Come again?" Lois asked.

"Al – can you grab that file on the Brotherhood of the Light."

Lois frowned. "Aren't they just one of those secret handshake organisations – the kind that involve dressing up, getting drunk, eating too much, and raising money for charity?"

"For sure." Bradley nodded. "Thanks Shorty." Slam said to his pal, taking the file from the younger man, before adding. "Yeah it's all dress up in robes, then they listen to this guy's spiel on the coming New World Order."

Opening the folder on the coffee table, Bradley pushed a photograph towards Lois and Clark. "Tell me what to make of that."

Clark recognised the plain building and street setting as Metropolis, the small brass plaque said 'Brotherhood of the Light.'

"Do you recognise these clowns?"

"Cordell, Graney, Graham, and Kingsley." Lois replied. "How old is this picture – Superman put these mobsters out of business."

"You're right, I took this back in 37 – but look at this way, when I came back to Metropolis I expected _dis_organised crime, y'know the kind bloody mess that usually happens when territory is up for grabs, only thing is I didn't see it."

"What are you saying?" Clark asked.

Bradley dropped a second picture on top of the first. "Last week, same place, look at the faces – now I don't expect you guys to recognise second tier enforcers, but I do." Bradley meaty finger stabbed at four heads. "These guys just stepped up into their bosses shoes, without any lethal arguments, oddly it's all sweetness and _light_, if you get my drift."

Lois whistled.

"These faces – well you will know, since their all well heeled society types."

"Including the Commissioner of Police." Clark noted.

Lois glanced at her watch. "Clark I need to drop by my place, and freshen up. Say we meet at the new National Hall at six." She stood up. "Thanks Slam, we'll have to finish catching up later.

"Oh and thank you Shorty for the coffee." Lois let Clark get the door. "Oh by the way Al, did you ever finish school?"

Bradley spoke up on his friends behalf. "By rights we should be calling him Doctor Al Pratt, Professor of Physics."

Lois smiled, evidently pleased by the news. "You're a bad influence Slam Bradley – you take care of him Shorty, because no one else will."

-'S'-

The colourful costumed figure of the mighty Man of Tomorrow streaked through the clouds at speed. Superman expected Senator Billingsley's car to approach Covenant Circle Gardens Auditorium site along the Carroll Highway, and he was taking no chances overflying the route he identified the limousine quickly enough, and using his telescopic x-ray like vision Superman satisfied himself that despite protests of to the contrary, the Senator's staff were taking The Light's threats seriously.

Four armed guards sat in the back with the senator, plus two up front including his driver.

Superman saw the grey Sedan weave out of lane and stop at the last moment, the driver hit his headlights directing the high beam at the Senator's limousine coming the other way.

Unexpectedly blinded the Senator's driver instinctively brakes screeching to an abrupt halt, as the other car's lights shine all the brighter now washing the big auto with a brilliance of such stark, blinding qualities that even Superman feels it's effects, he stalls in the air, caught as if staring into the sun, he hears the cries from below. "Those headlights – I... I can't see." "Neither can I!"

Moments later blinking the Metropolis Marvel recovers from white haze, but within the Senator's car the occupants are less well equipped, mere human physiology is much much slower in comparison. They fumble blindly, confused not understanding what has happened. Superman recognises he is missing seconds of time, somehow the light had confused his mind, long enough for Senator to be pulled from limousine under the noses of the men charged with his protection.

The Man of Tomorrow scans the roads left and right, unbelievably the grey car has vanished, and rising skywards he spreads his field of vision, spying a car of the same make, and without plates, but he almost dismisses it because it is a dull purple, but there is something odd about the tinted glass that makes him look closer, concentrating he finds the interior resists him, but he makes out the shape of two men in a brightly lit cabin. Thinking, they are holding torches - no wait these are shaped more like guns.

Seeing them pointed at the third man sandwiched between them, this was all too much of a coincidence and Superman is confident he has found the Senator. Thinking as Sherlock Holmes would say, "when you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." The truth being the audacious kidnapper's car was some kind of mechanical chameleon.

Swooping down the Metropolis Marvel attempts to bring the big auto to a halt, but his frontal assault is met by the blinding beams of light, confirming his suspicions, Superman reacts, prepared for this dazzling array he escapes their mesmerizing power, flipping over the speeding auto, he catches the rear of the car, and with surgical precision opens the steel body with his bare hands, letting the white interior glow wash out from the hole he has made. Inside the kidnappers turn towards him stunned, their odd masked goggles protecting them from their own weapons peculiar effects.

"I've been mighty patient up to now, but don't get me sore!" He tells them.

Predictably they turn their light guns toward Superman, but again the Man of Tomorrow is prepared and ducks to the side, coming through the right hand rear door, tearing it clean off, "Here's some of the punishment you've been begging for." He says, bringing the two thugs heads together hard enough to knock them unconscious. Reaching for the driver he nerve pinches him at his neck, rendering him inert, just as he tries to leap for freedom. Reaching through Superman kills the engine.

"Senator Billingsely are you unharmed?"

"I don't think I'm hurt." The older man replies blinking, rubbing his white moustache. "My eyesight seems to be returning, although I'm not sure, all I see is bright blue, red and yellow."

"Don't worry Sir, just sit tight and enjoy the ride, oh and hold on." Superman instructs, grabbing the car, and it contents, he takes flight back along the Carroll Highway.

Moments later he is back at the scene of the abduction.

The Senator's bodyguards, they are all stood beside their car, now with Metropolis Police in attendance, dropping the purple auto to the ground, Superman says "Here you go Gentleman." Adding with a broad smile. "You'll find Senator Billingsley is safe and well inside this car, the unconscious men are his kidnappers."

"So you say. Stop him officer! He needs to answer some questions." The lead Agent demands, angrily drawing his weapon.

Superman hears the familiar voice of Sergeant Casey. "You can tell you boys are from Washington, you might as well be waving pea shooters. Forget it he's already as good as gone"

"Sorry fellas can't hang around talking I have an appointment." Superman laughs taking to the sky.

Moments later Clark Kent arrives at the new National Hall. Lois isn't amused.

"You're late Kent." She chides.

"Sorry Lois, I had to make a phone call."

"What were you doing dictating a novel? Any way lucky for you the Senator is behind schedule. Let's take our seats."

In due course Senator Billingsley takes the floor, and announces to the packed auditorium.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, and I apologise for my less than polished appearance. Some of you will have heard reports of threats made against me. Specifically a Fanatic named 'The Light' prophesied I would not speak to you today, I am late, and I am dishevelled because he tried to make that threat come true – fortunately he failed.

"Men like The Light, Nazi's and Fascists, would like to take away from Americans our right to free speech. They want to extinguish Democracy here and in Europe – how can any right minded man promise never to defend Democracy?

"As Mr Churchill has said. "Give us the tools, and we will finish the job." Can America really refuse to lend a helping hand to our British friends?"

As Clark listened to Billingsley's argument he sees Jimmy Olsen at work with his camera at the ready, another photographer breaks rank, taking a position that gives him the perspective of the whole auditorium. Suddenly he fires the flash bulb, but Clark recognises the brilliance as nothing to do with photography.

"Lois shield your eyes!"

The auditorium is awash with the blinding rays, but they quickly pass, and on the wall of the building in blazing light is a stark message.

"You may have escaped this time Senator,

"But there will be other attempts and they may not fail.

"- 'The Light' -"

Lois grabs Clark's arm. "Let's get this called in."

Kent scans the auditorium for the mystery Photographer, and back to Lois. "No time to panic Clark we have job to do."

"I..."

"You're not pulling one over me Clark, we make this call now - together – you're not scooping me again. Now come on."

Kent curses his luck and meekly follows his Partner, knowing there will be another day to pursue 'The Light'.

-'S'-

Above the cold northern Fjords of Norway the Shining Knight shimmered a bright light flashing across the sky, like a shooting star he sought out his adversary. Below the Royal Navy 6th Destroyer Flotilla flanked two troopships, carrying men from No.3 and No.4 Commando, along with the Royal Engineers and sailors from the Norwegian Navy the raiding party homed in on the Lofoten Islands fish oil factories, with their extensive stores of oil and glycerine.

Sir Justin swept forward, he was certain this daring insertion into the enemies northern territory would draw the attention of the old god Wotan.

He checked the modern time piece that had been secured to his mirrored armour, the landings were due to take place in darkness, circling above he watched the troops land, before taking height his sword ready for the Nazi's secret weapon of magical domination – but the Sorcerer frustrated his expectations, something Justin welcomed, never the less he remained suspicious and vigilant.

Below the landings had taken place without a shot being fired, Justin noted, a moment too soon, because from an armed trawler heavy guns barked. Suited for many naval requirements refitted trawlers like the Krebs were robust boats designed to work in all types of weather and had large clear working decks. HMS Somali the lead Destroyer returned fire, and silenced the enemies guns, mortally wounding her.

As the fire fight took place below a magical vortex in the starry sky opened, and the scream of Wotan's Valkyries rang out, the ghostly apparitions swept down meaning to strike fear into the Allies. Justin gave chase, his magical sword sliced not only through the hardest material, but cut equally the most insubstantial, and the ephemeral beings fell cut asunder by his magically forged sword. They flew rapidly unpredictably but his winged steed the fiery horse-spirit Victory, matched there impossible manoeuvres with magic of its own.

Still Justin looked for Wotan, but the Valkyrie's master did not appear, even as the Nazi's merchantmen were sunk by the raiders, Wotan did not come.

On board the Kreb Allied agents hurriedly searched the sinking enemy vessel, and finding hidden within a prize far greater than sunken tonnage, or burning oil and glycerine, a set of rotor wheels for an Enigma cypher machine and its code books.

-'S'-

"Diana where have you been?" Steve Trevor demanded. "You can't wander around willy-nilly, not now, not with things being so tense here."

"Is there any news about Hottelet?" She asked not rising to Steve's harshness, Diana could sense his great agitation, it was not easy, because she felt the pressure of the moment as well. Her search for the Hand of Mars continued, and that meant looking east, she was certain the Mad Red Monk Rasputin had fled to his old homeland.

Steve shook his head. "Richard C. Hottelet is being held on suspicion of espionage." He read the confirmation letter.

"I want you to take him a change of clothes, toiletries, make sure he has a toothbrush and soap and so on – and Diana be careful."

-'S'-

"Kent have you ever been to up into Anthracite Country?" George Taylor asked. "It's hardly the story of the century." Dismissing Clark's idea. "Rich girl inherits wealthy fathers fortune, I'm sure it's worthy of a line or two in the society pages, but it isn't what I pay my Investigative Reporters for." Taylor stubbed out his cigarette, pausing before he grabbed another.

"Kent prominent men are going missing – people important to this country. My gut says this is connected to the Billingsley business. What I want to know is do you or Lois have any thing more on this Light character?"

"That's what _this_ all about Chief."

"Okay – sell it to me." Taylor stood up and rested on his desk. "What has coal mining and this girl..." Taylor reached across and pulled off the picture from on top of Clarks notes. "Ah. I see, very pretty blonde girl, got to do with 'The Light'?"

"Doris Laughey has been living here Metropolis under the guardianship of her uncle since her father's death a little over four years ago, thing is she's reached her majority and her late father's will now gives her control over his mining company."

"And?"

"She's refusing to sell, despite some tasty offers, and she's told her Uncle to step aside as Managing Director, she means to take over the day to day running of the business."

"Okay Kent, that's worth more column inches – Beautiful young girl trying to run the toughest big mining operation in the country – we could tie it in to the Brit's calling for their women to men's jobs. Now tell me where 'The Light' fits into all this."

"Slam Bradley." Clark began, to interrupted by Taylor's laughter.

"Heard he was back in town."

"As I was saying, he gave Lois I copies of series of pictures of comings and goings into the 'Temple of the Light'."

"That unassuming building down on Main?"

"Yeah, I've been angling for an invite to a meeting for weeks."

"Yeah I know how these secret societies work, invite only, and reporters not very welcome."

"Well I was going through the photographs when I saw this face." Clark pointed out a profile on the shot.

"It's kind of small – you say you recognised this person?" Taylor squinted. "Heck Kent your glasses must pack an awful powerful prescription."

"Here Jimmy blew that part up for me – and compare with this profile shot of Doris Laurey Uncle – James Laurey I pulled from records."

Taylor held them up. "Same guy – possibly."

"Definitely – I saw him there myself."

"Lots of people are part of this club – right across the country, raising money for widows and orphans."

"But the Metropolis branch has very interesting members – many with links to organised crime, rubbing shoulders with a couple Judges and our Police Commissioner. Plus look at this." Clark pulled out a document bearing the country seal. "This is a provisional license granting Laury mines the right to drive test shafts into the Metropolis Hills."

Taylor flicked through the copy Kent had obtained from County Hall. "Radium rather than coal." Taylor's brow furrowed. "Tread carefully Kent, and keep me informed, and keep all receipts – oh and take Lane with you, for that girl on girl angle."

"Errr, thanks – I think, Chief."

Taylor laughed and shook his head as Clark left.

-'S'-

Diana was unable to see the American journalist Hottelet, the Nazi guards would not let her past, but they accepted the parcel of clothes, but set to one side the toothpaste, toothbrush and soap, Diana wondered if Richard would ever see them, sensing dishonesty in this business she turned to leave old police presidium at the Alexanderplatz in Berlin, where the Gestapo had brought the unfortunate American Agent Prince and ran into a familiar face. Baroness Paula von Gunther, or at least Diana was convinced of it, head down she coughed burying her nose in a hastily drawn handkerchief. The SS Officer paused, her cold face emotionless but questioning.

"American." She said "You are familiar to me."

"You may have seen me at a diplomatic function." Diana replied quite honestly.

"Perhaps that is it." Valkyrie agreed, her face narrowed as she stared.

Diana trusted the legacy of the Proteus Mask would hold up to this magical corporate being, and that whatever glimmer of consciousness that had been the much abused Paula Von Gunther would not assert itself – for the former agent had known the original Diana Prince. Whatever had happened to Valkyrie during the destruction of the flying fortress had not destroyed this magical creature, she had recovered. This only served to redouble Diana's resolution to locate the Hand of Mars before the Nazi's superhuman operatives could.

-'S'-

"So Cowboy what's the plan?" Lois asked Clark as he gunned the ford flat-head v8 sedan out from the Star's Car Pool. "Because I've been asking around since Taylor gave us this story, and since she turned twenty-one the Laurey girl hasn't been talking to anyone, especially reporters – steady on Clark, this isn't a race, let's not get a ticket."

"Sorry Lois but I've an appointment to keep."

"Where?"

"Metropolis U."

"Really? That wouldn't be with some budget Kansas Rita Hayworth look-a-like would it?"

"Jealous Lois?"

"Don't be ridiculous – It's not Lana, she's a good kid – it's you – I'm still mad at you. I haven't forgotten how you almost bailed on doing that interview with Rocks Gordon – after you pretty much asked to do it.

"Face it, Taylor was so mad he almost sacked you, and then after all that you managed to mess it up. Crimes Clark, Gordon was the best lead we had, the only one of the new bosses Slam told us about we even got close to seeing, and you..."

"I know, I got nervous and screwed up – I'm sorry. That's why I tried to identify who else was in Bradley's pictures, which lead me to James Laurey."

"Whoop-de-doo."

"Lois, our job is to get a story, it's not to get fitted with pair of concrete shoes."

Lois stuck out her tongue at him.

Clark pulled up, and climbed out. Lois was right, about why he was here. Lana Lang came running over.

"Gee Clark I'd thought you'd stood me up." She placed a kiss on his cheek. "Oh sorry Lois, didn't see you there."  
"That's all right Lana, seeing you is as big a surprise for me, as it is for you."

"Is Clark dropping you some where?"

"Hmm, yes, I mean – I'm really dropping him, like down the deep six Laurey Main Shaft."

"Oh!" Lana coughed. "Your coming too."

"Too." Lois laughed. "I guess so, or perhaps we should say coming three."

"Oh!" Lana said for the third time. "It's a good thing I packed myself a spare sweater."

"Huh?" Lois said pulling her best confused face, meanwhile Clark opened the rear door for Lana.

Once he'd started the car he explained. "We need a cover story, I got Lana to borrow a Met U jacket and cap, and a student pass."

"Right – so I get to wear Lana's spare jumper." Lois guessed. "That's the plan, to be what - students on a field trip?"

"Why, don't you think you'll pass for a undergrad?" Clark asked.

Lois pursed her lips. "In what major. Are we to be a junior Doctors like Miss Lang."

"Actually..." Lana began, but Clark interrupted. "Engineering – hence our visit to the mine."

"Good plan." Lois admitted, she turned back to Lana. "You were saying."

"I switched majors." Lana said. "To journalism."

Lois sank into her seat. "Oh save me."

-'S'-

Laurey Mines was a big operation, the industrial complex dominated the skyline in the otherwise rural area, and was a hub for both rail and road, the community which nestled in the shadow of the site was pretty a one horse operation reliant on the mine.

A rest stop on route had given Lois and Clark time to change into the Metropolis University colours. Lois had tied her hair in bunches and washed her face of make up. Clark gradually relaxed the lines from his face that used to artificially add the years, hoping Lois didn't notice the change.

He was reminded of the time when the Barnett Winston Comet had robbed him of his powers, and Lois had seen him au natrel, things had never quite been the same between them since then, it was something that nagged on his conscience.

For his part he donned the signature baseball cap and jacket with the Met U stitching. Lana was the real deal, if you didn't count the borrowed student ID that said under Major – Engineering.

The gate was open, but manned by a guy in a brown Laurey Security uniform, his guard hut sat on island in the middle of the double gated entrance. He stepped into the road holding up his hand indicating that they should stop.

"Hello." Clark said. "We're here to take a look around."

"You are – are you?" The guy on the gate looked at them suspiciously, Clark wasn't worried yet, he was betting that this routine was just his job description.

"Yes – Miss Laurey is good friend of ours, she invited us up to see the mine – we've driven all the way from Metropolis."

"No kidding." The guy wasn't laughing.

"You mean you're not expecting us?" Clark asked with all the surprise he could muster, and was met by a solemn nod.

He winked at Lois, seeing she was doing her best to seem unperturbed.

"Well I have a letter here." Clark took it from his wallet, unfolded and passed over the typed missive. He was betting the guard had never seen Doris Laurey signature. Now he was less certain.

"You girls are studying Engineering?" The Mine worker asked incredulous.

"I'm doing Industrial Economics." Lois replied instantly making stuff up as she went.

"Students. Eh? That's Okay then I guess – Go ahead."

Clark drove in.

"Where too now Cowboy?" Lois asked.

"Well if she's running the show from here, which is what her daddy did – then I guess the company office is as good a place as any."

Clark drove along the sites internal road ways, turning for the white collar sector, when Lois gave out a characteristic high pitch exclamation. "There she is Clark. Look exiting Shaft 3 – I recognise her from her photos."

"And that tall guy with her, that's her uncle." Clark agreed, stopping the car.

Lana leant forward. "He's a hard faced man – can't say I like the look of him."

"Doris!" Clark shouted, he waved as he jogged across to the two Laureys.

"I'm sorry do I know you."

"I'm Clark err from Metropolis."

"Sorry I still have no idea who you are."

Kent admired her honesty, in this kind of situation most people just assumed that they were at fault, choosing to fake some memory of having met the other person.

James Laurey stepped forward. "Let me deal with this dear." he said. Turning to Clark. "So you're the youngsters with a letter from my niece? Weren't expecting that were you – well here at Laurey Mines we have a state of the art internal telephone exchange. I received a call from the gate telling me all about you - does any of this sound familiar Doris?"

"I really don't know what's going on." Doris Laurey replied.

"Guard!" Jim Laurey bellowed.

All too quickly a brown uniformed man came running to the Laurey's side. "Yes sir, Mr Laurey."

"Escort these young people to my outer Office, and keep them there - I need to get to the bottom of this."

Grabbing hold of Clark the burly man shoved the reporter away, Clark let himself be frog marched away. Laurey gestured to a couple of equally big miners. "Gentlemen, kindly point those girls in the right direction."

Lana looked at Lois. "What now?"

"I guess we follow Clark, unless you want to get coal dust on your sweaters?"

"Get inside." The Guard pushed Clark into the waiting area. Lois and Lana followed. "Mr Laurey will be along shortly." He shut the door and the lock clicked shut behind him.

"Okay, I'll ask again – what now?" Lana stood hands on hips looking at Clark.

"I guess we get an interview with Jim Laurey instead."

"Hardly why we bothered with this ruse." Lois complained, falling into an occasional chair.

"Yeah!" Lana said joining her in a demonstration of sisterly solidarity. "Gotta say Lois, this isn't the introduction to investigative journalism, that CK sold me."

"Sorry Lana – that's those breaks." Clark said dropping his Met U, cap onto Lois's head - she glared at him.

"Kinda suits you." He said. Lois sulked.

Clark turned and scanned the offices, and wider complex. The Laurey's were locked into a discussion. Doris was asking her Uncle what was going on. "And what do you propose to do – even if they faked a letter of introduction, it's hardly a hanging offence, what I'd like to know is why a students from my Alma Mater feel the need to go to such lengths just to look around Laurey Mines, it hardly suggests we're very welcoming to potential recruits Uncle Jim."

"Errr. Yes dear, I see what you saying, yes of course you have a point, I – well you know, I have err been in Metropolis a lot of late, perhaps the security here has become over zealous, you know all this talk of these fifth columnists doing dastardly things, and so on – that must be it."

"Well they don't look like spies." Doris laughed.

Jim Laurey smiled. "What exactly _do_ spies look like dear?"

"Well that is a good point – still perhaps if I..."

"No, no, no, you wanted to see the new work in Shaft Five, besides your Foreman Crawford is waiting for you – no, you down directly, I'll clear up this, err misunderstanding, don't worry about it."

"Okay – but go easy on them, y'know you were young once too Uncle Jim."

Clark watched as the tall grey haired man strode across to the offices where they were being held. He had to agree with Lana he wore a hard and angry expression, harsher than the smiles moments ago had employed with his niece.

"I'm going to have a word with Mr Laurey." Clark announced loudly, he tossed Lana the sedan keys.

"But they locked the door." Lois hissed, as Clark opened it breaking the lock with minimal effort, so swiftly this action going unnoticed. "I guess they didn't." He said winking at Lois and Lana, with a toss of his head indicating to Lois what she should do, as he strode outside.

"Mr Laurey, I just wanted to apologise for all this – this misunderstanding."

"Really young man." Laurey frowned angrily, Clark assumed he was wondering why they weren't locked in as per his orders.

"Why did you perpetuate such a fraud to gain access to my site?" Laurey asked.

Kent shrugged. "I wouldn't put it quite that way."

"How would you put it?" Laury snarled. "Faking correspondence – very underhand."

Clark angled himself between Laurey and the offices, in the corner of his eye he saw Lois had taken his cue, she and Lana were making a break for it – he hoped they would be able to find Doris.

"Your site?" Clark asked provocatively. "I thought this all belonged to Miss Laurey now?"

"Why you..." Laurey growled, in stepping forward he seemed intent on pushing past, Kent realised he need to play his ace card. His press card.

"Mr Laurey – I'm Clark Kent Metropolis Daily Star." He said flashing his ID. "I just wondered if you'd like to comment on your niece removing you as Managing Director and taking over day to day running of Laurey Mines?"

Laurey went apoplectic. "You're Press!" He bellowed, shouting "Guards – Guards!"

His paid heavies quickly came running, Clark let them bowl into him, one grabbing his arms from behind.

"Who are those girls?" Laurey demanded.

Clark grimaced. "Just a couple of students I picked up, promised them a ride and a bit adventure – where do you think I got this get up from?"

"Okay Mr Kent, I'm cutting you a break." Laurey growled. To his guys he said. "Throw him out."

-'S'-

Lois and Lana skirted the office building as Clark distracted the tall grim figure of Jim Laurey, by the time they were out of sight the shouting had started.

"I hope Clark is Okay." Lois said.

"He's tougher than he looks." Lana replied, pausing and then adding. "At least he used to be."

"Hmm sometimes I think he still is – then he goes lily livered on me."

"There's our car." Lana pointed across to the grey sedan Clark had parked close to the entrance of Shaft 3.

"We should try and find Doris Laurey." Lois said looking around.

Lana nodded. "You know Lois – that really doesn't sound like Clark, the lily livered thing I mean, I don't know perhaps Metropolis has changed him."

"Wait there she is!" Lois pointed to the unmistakable hour glass figure of Doris Laurey heading towards Shaft 5. "Damn it she's surrounded by security. Jim Laurey isn't taking any chances – something smells here."

"And it looks like she's heading underground." Lana noted.

"Yeah looks like our canary has sung." Lois said. "Let's make a run for the car."

-'S'-

Clark rolled onto the ground pushed through a side gate, he lay sprawled in the dirt until the metal wire mess door was closed shut, like the rest of the tight weave fence, it was topped with angle irons carrying three strands of barbed wire.

Dusting himself off, it was clear that Jim Laurey took his security seriously, but split second later Superman rose above the trifling barrier, and with a tall building topping leap, he cleared the smoke stacks of Laurey mines, watching the grey Daily Star pool car make it's way out of the complex.

Scanning the mine he searched out Doris Laurey, he too felt something was very wrong.

"You know Boss it almost seems a shame to break our safety record."

Jim Laurey laughed. "There goes the internal phone, must be Doris calling from the mine head wondering where you are."

Superman scanned the room, the snippet of conversation was enough to confirm his worse fears.

"Should have known when Lois tagged along that we'd be riding into the middle of something." He laughed to himself. Noting the line number blinked 5 he guessed that indicated which shaft Doris Laurey was in, and in a flash he was there, searching with his telescopic x-ray like vision, catching sight of her he dived down the vertical shaft racing along the tunnel towards the young woman.

"Mr Crawford? Are you their Crawford? Hello? Is any one there?" Doris asked increasingly agitated – speaking directly into the wall phone. "You've got to help me – No.5 is empty, there's no one here –Oh my God! The coal cars, they've come loose, they are coming towards me, I've no where to go."

Superman arms wrapped around the petite blonde, as the mine cars shot at tremendous speed towards them, hurtling down the steep track, propelled by ton upon ton of coal, but this was nothing compared to the Man of Tomorrow's lightening reactions, whisking her into his arms he pressed them both against the ceiling of the shaft, as the coal cars hurtled beneath. Then the dastardly plan was fully completed as the laden train smashed into the mine head, detonating the packed explosives sending a blast wave rocketing back up the mine, shaking the deep shafts very foundations.

Superman wraps Doris in his enveloping near indestructible Kyrptonian weave cloak, shielding her with his own body. Finally hell abates and in the darkness Doris asks. "Who's there?"

-'S'-

The Daily Star's staff car rolls up towards the gate.

"How are we going to play this?" Lana asks.

"Slowly slowly, so not to spook the guard, if he tries to stop us I'll gun our motor, and hope he's lousy shot."

"Okay." Lana said in the quiet voice people use when it's not really okay at all, but there's no other way.

"Lucky break. There's another car." Lois said as she pulled to the exit side of the Laurey Mine's gate.

The Guard was already out of his narrow hut that sat in the middle of the carriage way, and approaching the big black town car. The rear suicide doors swings open and a face familiar to Lois leans out.

She looks down and pulls Clark's cap over her eyes. "Sugar!"

Gunning the engine the grey sedan growls away, the Guard is shouting and waving his clipboard, but Lois isn't looking back.

"What is it Lois?" Lana asked "What spooked you?"

"The guy in the back of that big car, that was Rocks Gordon."


	61. Chapter 61

1941 – Part Two

Lois Lane took coffee, Lana hot chocolate.

"So what's the deal?" She asked the younger woman.

Lana smiled sweetly, glancing out through the window of Maggie's Diner.

Lois smiled back with her mouth but not her eyes. She didn't expect Clark would be coming – even Superman couldn't be in two places at once. That thought made her frown.

Lana came to the point. "Doris Laurey only recently started using her father's name again. I guess it seemed the right thing to do given she wanted to take over the Mining business.

"Doris previously went by the name of Lee – her Mother used her maiden name after divorcing the late Robert Laurey, when Doris was a child."

"And this is relevant how?"

"Doris Lee – according to the scandal sheets is currently stepping out with a well known playboy from the so very fashionable Gotham Hipster Scene."

Okay, Lois thought to herself, this had to be just a little bit more interesting. "Gotham and Gangsters go together like kiss does with a squeeze – you don't get anywhere in that city without knowing the right kind of wrong people."

Lois ran through a list of the usual suspects in her mind. "Who – Bruce Wayne is taken, perhaps Oliver Queen?"

"Ted Knight." Lana told her.

"Wait. Knight and Doris Lee – yes that name rings a bell now, her aunt is married to Woodley Allen- right?"

Lana nodded. "Yes he's a regional Director at the FBI."

Lois frowned. "Sure is an interesting family. One uncle on the run for attempted murder, her other uncle a Fed charged with chasing him."

"A good angle right?" the younger woman asked.

Lois had to admit that it was, but before she said anything a sound caught her attention, and Lois held her hand up. Lana looked petulant. "Shh" Lois said. "I hear sirens."

Lane slid from the booth and ran outside.

Along the street Lois saw the Main Branch of the Metropolis Bank on the corner of Washington and Fifth. Coming up fast she recognises Car 48, the ride of Sergeant Casey, and the unmistakable scent of a story.

Lana runs along beside her.

"Haven't you got lectures or something." Lois asked.

"Something maybe – but this looks better." Lana answered.

Lois ran holding onto her hat, skipping across the street, and through traffic.

"I should arrest you for jaywalking." Casey growled as he fell out of the car.

"What's going down?" Lois asked. "The bank?"

"Yeah, you bet duck for cover – and stay out'a the ways."

-'S'-

Superman's sensitive super-hearing picks up on the Police radio. Closing in on the scene he watches Lane and Lang follow Sergeant Casey inside.

Observing no evidence of trouble Superman nevertheless spends a few moments high above the street. Casey soon attracts the attention of a well dressed man.

"Albert Fox – Manager and Director of this Bank. What can I do for our City's Finest."

"What's the trouble?" The Sergeant demands. "Your silent alarm kicked in and there is squad of cars out on the street because of it."

Ah – terribly sorry Officer, one moment." Fox said, returning quickly, clearly embarrassed. "Err... it appears one of junior Clerks mistimed opening the vault, tripping the alarm. An unfortunate accident I'm afraid."

"That maybe Sir." Casey said tipping his hat with his thumb. "But I still have see to that vault."

"Naturally officer."

"And how about demonstrating to the Daily Star that all is well?" Lois asked across Casey's shoulder, flashing her press card.

"Of course – I'd hate Metropolis to think we had a problem here."

The manager leads Casey and his partner Mickey, followed by Lois and Lana to the vault door, the large round steel portal was open. "Would care to step inside – I'm sure once inside you will see clearly that all is well." Fox suggests.

Superman watched Lois frown, he could hear the disappointment in her voice as she said to Lana. "Looks like this story is going to fizzle, Kid."

But once inside the vault Fox hits the emergency latch, and door springs rapidly shut. Then without showing alarm or concern the Manager returns to his desk, and begins to work.

Inside the Vault Lois exclaims. "Casey Fox is crazy – look this place has been robbed, the safety deposit boxes, they've been left open."

Superman falls down to the window tearing through the protective bars like candy, and facing the Metropolis Bank's Manager he demands to know - "What the blazes is going on?"

"Are you mad?" The Banker explodes. "Guards!" He shouts.

"There are people locked in the vault – you did this, why?"

"Shoot him!" Comes the response – an order to the Banks Guards, who answer with hot lead. Superman shrugs of the bullets, as he falls upon vault. Great star powered muscles tense and the Man of Tomorrow tears the steel door open. The metal screams its last whimper in pointless resistance.

"Superman." Casey greets him with a frown.

Lois pushes past. "Thanks Superman. It was getting real stuffy in there, with Casey heavy breathing in my ear."

"Now lady..." The burly police officer began.

"People.. Police... locked in my vault." The Manager interrupted. "b-but how did you get in there."

Casey ignored Superman and the carnage around him. "Don't pull the innocent act on us you loon, you us locked in here yourself."

"What?"

"You're under arrest. Read his rights Mickey." Casey pulled a set of cuffs from his belt. "You're going to tell where the loot has gone."

"What?" The Manager gasped again.

"Your vault has been emptied." Lois told him.

The look of confusion and terror on the man's face spoke volumes to the Man of Steel.

Casey swung round. "Where is that Superman? Dammit he's vanished again."

"Hello Lois." Clark Kent said, walking into the inner lobby.

"Clark." Lana began. "There's has been a robbery and Superman came and..." Clark nodded as his friend told him what he already knew.

Lois folded her arms. "I thought you were covering the Superman visiting the orphanage across town."

"I was, he did, he left early – so did I. Thought he must have his reasons."

Lois was about to ask him something, but Clark second guessing her question, cut her short. "Taylor wants to see us."

Back at the Star, Clark let Lois recount the story of the crazy Bank Manager. Taylor sat grim faced throughout, and then after she was done he lent back in his chair.

"So, another seemingly normal, law abiding, upstanding member of the community goes off the rails, and claims they don't remember any of it."

"Pretty much." Clark agreed.

"And this guy he's..."

"A regular at his local Temple Lodge of the Brotherhood of the Light."

"Just like the others." Lois said.

Clark lent forward putting his hand on the desk. "Chief consider these _accidental_ deaths too.

"Thomas Corday trips at the head of the stairs, hours later there is a fire at Corday Clayton Chalmers Chemical Corporation Metropolis.

"Before that it was Daniel Black falling asleep at the wheel, he died at the scene - followed by an explosions at two of his Black Steel Foundries here and New York State."

Clark continues. "Back in May, Robert Starbuck, Professor of Physics, visiting from Chicago, an apparent suicide by gun. No note, no explanation – no apparent reason.

"Accidental deaths my hat Chief – these are cold bloodied murders." Clark said. "And I'm willing to put my name on the story – if you'll print it."

"Mine too." Lois added. "You can check the list Slam Bradley gave me, every one of those dead men is a either a Brother of the Light – or a very recent guest."

Taylor lit a cigarette. "You realise if we publish they're will be heat. A lot of leading Metropolitans are connected to the Brotherhood."

"All the more reason to carry the story." Lois said.

"There's more." Taylor said quietly, pulling out his own notebook. "In Los Angeles Carl Bransom Lecturer and Scientist failed to attend a defence board meeting. In New York, Professor Donald Davis's Car is found smashed."

"The famous Inventor?" Lois asked.

"If memory serves me right, Davis was a student of Nikola Telsa's" Clark added.

"Yes that's fellow, and like the others - there's no sign of him.

"Then in Washington Political Boss John Standing doesn't return home from a fund raiser. Here in Metropolis Financier Freeman Chase doesn't make it to work. All these people are connected with our Nations rearmament program."

"Oh boy." Clark adjusted his glasses with the tip of his middle finger. "Any sign they're alive?"

"That's the thing." Taylor said. "The Feds contacted me on the quiet, a guy called Woodley Allen."

"Yeah that'll be Doris Laurey's Uncle. Married to her mother's younger sister." Lois told them.

"Right." Taylor said. "That's interesting." He made a note in his book. Then said.

"Allen is heading up their special investigations division. He called to me ask if I'd heard anything, no matter how crazy sounding, because there's not been a whisper, no ransom demands – nothing, and some of these fellows have been missing for weeks.

"I'm going to keep high level kidnapping cases out of the Paper for now, because it's a National Security issue, but if you find anything out, you know where to bring it – get to it team."

Kent and Lane left the Newsroom.

"I think we should take a ride out to C5Met Laboratories." Clark suggested.

"Why go to the _least_ serious accident?" Lois asked. "The Black Steel Works explosions were far more spectacular."

"That's kind of the point, I'm hoping the fire was meant to be a bigger deal too, perhaps whatever the Brotherhood was trying to hide, well didn't get hidden."

Clark and Lois drove across town where Corday Clayton Chalmers Chemical Corporation Metropolis was located. After a short wait, they were escorted into the office of Tom Chalmers.

Clark waited until Lois was seated. "Mr Chalmers, the Daily Star of course extends his condolences, Doctor Corday must be greatly missed."

The older Manager nodded. "Thank you young man. I believe you want to ask some questions about the fire here."

"Yes sir, I believe there was a fatality?"

"Yes. A research assistant, Brett Bryson. I regret to say I didn't know him well, you see he only joined us recently. Really I am afraid to say I can't tell you any more."

"What exactly was damaged in the fire?" Lois asked.

"I can't tell you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Miss Lane – isn't it? Yes I thought so. It's a simply this, our work is highly classified."

Lois pouted, but Clark got in first.

"Thank you Sir for seeing us and explaining in person – but I would be right in thinking there was no fire as such – the accident involved Radium, and it was radiation burns that killed Bryson?"

Chalmers face turned a shade white followed by red. He spoke his anger contained, but his words were hard and clipped. "Mr Kent – I don't know where you get your information – but I believe the proper response is_ no comment_. I'm going to have to ask you both to leave."

He followed this by repeating this as instruction over the intercom to his secretary. C5Met Security arrived quickly to escort the reporters from the building to their car.

On the road Lois turned to him. "What aren't you telling me Clark."

"Let's just say if I had x-ray like vision I could have seen that there was no fire damage in any of the labs, but the heavy lead screening in the secure wing tells it's own story."

Lois frowned. "You mean Superman tipped you off."

"Something like that."

"Should have shared that Cowboy."

"You've got to let me surprise you some days Lois, otherwise I'd just be that guy who messed up with Rock's Gordon."

"Clark." Lois began.

"Yes." He replied thinking that she sound serious and that was maybe ominous.

"Forget it." She said. "I just had a stupid thought. It doesn't matter."

-'S'-

It's late and Ted Knight was tired. "Thanks for dropping round Shorty." He said to the diminutive Al Pratt.

His friend whistled and gestured to Knight's laboratory suite. S.T.A.R Labs newly completed complex sat on Troy Island Metropolis, it was both well finished and generously equipped.

"Great set up you have here." Shorty said.

"Should be – cost us plenty. You want a job?"

"Maybe, but maybe I kind of busy myself."

"Okay Al." Ted said. "Whenever you get tired of chasing down bad guys – there's a space for your here."

"I thought you'd want this as soon as." Pratt replied passing across the brown manilla envelope. "It's all Slam and I have been able to piece together on Doris's Uncle Jim – and his partners; but we're still looking."

Theodore Knight laid the collection of photographs and type written notes on his desk. Among them he recognised Rocks Gordon.

"Is she still stoked about meeting Superman?"

Ted's heart sank a little, as he admitted the truth to himself. His friend was right. "On the money Al." He said. "It's all she talks about these days – to be honest I've been reading some psychology texts to try and figure this all out." He tapped a book by Charles Moulton, on the socio-sexuality of the Human female.

Al shrugged, to Ted he appeared lost for words, he had known Shorty Pratt since their first day together as fellow Students of Physics at Metropolis University, Pratt had a wrestling scholarship, while his own family came from the other side of tracks. Or fairer to say Knight Industries owned a great deal of track – and rolling stock, serving Knights chemical plants and oil refineries.

"Well Ted – it's a big deal, a life and death situation."

"Rescue Romance."

"She loves you Ted. Having a crush on Superman is like loving Rudolf Valentino or Clark Gable – cute, but it's not going to happen."

"Thanks Al. It's just I hate being such a sap." Ted banged the desk in frustration. "Despite all the times we trained together, despite all the time you showed me your moves..."

"Ted we can only work with what the Good Lord gives us. Look at me, I might wish I had your height, you might wish you had Slam's weight, hell Superman's powers even, but we're who we are. Given where you started from..."

Ted interrupted him. "I'm fortunate - I was born rich – but isn't it better to be born lucky? Look at me poor little rich boy huh - weak heart and a 'lunger' – Some catch?"

"You're a great guy Ted." Pratt said.

Ted sighed. "Sorry Al. You've heard this all before, I'll quit whining. Thanks for this."

"Least I could I do." Shorty said. "Look it's late and,.. well I have something I gotta do."

Ted watched the brilliant physicist and athlete leave, and turning to the papers he had left, Ted looked over the images of Rock's Gordon together with the Laurey Mines Foreman, Crawford. Angry at his impotence he sank head in his hands.

There was a bright flash. Ted looked up surprised as the fuses blew and the room went dark. Then from centre of his lab a torch burned, and a very familiar face looked up at him from the floor.

His own.

Prostrate on the tiled floor lay his doppelgänger, there was no mistaking his own face and yet this version of himself was much more solidly built, it seemed as if this Ted Knight was older by some years. Ted pinched himself convinced this had to be some kind of waking dream.

"I'm working myself to hard." He whispered out loud.

The other man's clothes were stranger still - a red costume, including a close fitting red cowl, a black green cloak and shorts, at the centre of his chest glowed a fiery star like symbol, it was very reminiscent of the costume of Superman. Yet there was also something was very wrong with this strange visitor. There was a stench like burned pork. As the man moaned and rolled Ted could see that the in the alternative Ted Knight's chest were two blackened holes. Each ran through the width of his torso, front to back. The first entered just below his heart on the right, the second lower down in his stomach routing through his liver.

Falling to the floor Ted reached for the downed man. "My God – what's happened to you."

"Ted you've got to listen to me." His doppelgänger was insistent, his voice carrying pain and desperation, a horse whisper, demanding.

Knight knelt beside his other self. He could scarcely believe the evidence of his eyes, touching the red costume it felt like no other fabric he had ever come across. Ted wondered how this poor fellow was still alive?

The costumed man pulled himself closer, Ted supported his weight.

"Listen. Don't interrupt. I haven't got much time.

"You've got to stop him, whatever happens you've got to stop him."

"Stop who?"

"What's the date?"

"It's the second of June 1941"

"Good – I'm early."

"You must stop him – whatever the cost."

"Who?"

"The Uber Fuhrur, he must never..." His doppelgänger coughed, for a moment Ted thought he was going to die there and then. "He must never take control."

"Who Hitler?"

"Not Hitler, his successor, the Man of Diamond... He does it... he lives still, he creates it, rules over it – the thousand year Reich."

"What are you talking about – where do come from – who are you?"

"The future, and I'm you, I'm Ted Knight."

Knight felt cold, he had both expected and dreaded that answer.

"I must be going mad."

"Not yet."

"When – when are you from?"

"The 31st Century."

He laughed. "You expect me to believe I live for a thousand years?"

"Immortality." His future self gasped, gripping the strange looking torch he carried closer to his chest. "It's a gift of the gods."

"I have no idea what your talking about."

"When he'd gone – we lost hope."

"Who'd gone?"

"Superman – The Uber Fuhrer had us beat, but _she_ didn't give up, she saved a few of us, took us her Island, I – you – we – whatever... worked tirelessly to discover how his technology worked – Superman's science, it took a thousand years – but I did it." His future self was racked by a violent spasm.

"I can't..." He gasped. "Take this." He thrust the torch into Ted's hands. "This is our invention - it brought me across time and space, and it's kept me alive long enough to speak to you." The caped man said, still holding onto the golden rod shaped device. "It's a cosmic rod, it can absorb stellar radiations, use the energy to manipulate mass, to defy gravity."

"Like Superman?" Ted guessed.

"Yes."

"I can't take it – not if taking will kill you."

"I'm done for whatever you do."

"How did this happen?"

"He caught me trying to leave – to come here to the past, he came to the Island – how I don't know - wearing in his stolen golden magical armour, and that sword."

Ted guessed again. "The Uber Fuhrer?"

His Doppelgänger nodded weakly. "He'd never been able to truly master magic, to break through the barrier, but I guess I wasn't the only one working..." His future self gasped. "He caught me." Future Ted's fingers brushed his holed chest. "But I got through... take it... she loves you by the way, Doris really did..."

Ted felt his doppelgänger letting go of the cosmic rod, but not before he pressed the seemingly unmarked surface one last time. The rod flashed and Ted watched with horror as his future self crackled and vanished back into thin air. Leaving behind the device in his hand, the end result of a thousand years of research into the science of Superman, and resting on his other arm was the now empty red costume.

-'S'-

Clark Kent opened the door of the grey staff pool car and helped Lana out.

"Gee Clark, it's good of you to invite me on the interview."

Clark looked out at the Laurey Mines Metropolis Hills facility at Barrow Ridge, and was struck by the low key, almost small town look of the plant.

"My pleasure Lana. After all things didn't work out when we drove out to Anthracite Country, I felt I really should make it up to you."

"Clark, you shouldn't think of excuses to call me." Lana replied, adding as after thought. "It's always good to hear from someone so close to home – you know what they say about home."

Clark remembered the saying and changed the subject. "Look I believe that is Doris Laurey now."

Meeting with the heiress once more, Clark and Lana completed the formalities of polite introduction.

"I'm so grateful you've found time for the interview at last Miss Lee." Clark said.

"It's Miss Laurey – Mr Kent. That's Doris Lee Laurey to be precise."  
"Sorry my mistake, of course, I was just reading up on you – your past achievements and so on, and you went under the name Doris Lee for quite some time, in fact right through school?"

"Yes I did, but after my father died I realised that there are two sides to every story, and it takes two marry – and two to divorce. As an adult I felt it only right I take up the Laurey name again."

"Of course, I didn't mean to offend."

Lana smiled sweetly. "I'm not really here officially, I am student."

"I remember – Journalism wasn't it?"

"Yes Miss Laurey, I guess it must be nice being in Metropolis – I mean you get to spend time with Ted Knight – now he's taken a up a position with S.T.A.R Labs?"

"Ted and I are good friends. I'm sure you know how that is."

As she spoke a tall distinguished fellow crossed the office to them. Clark recognised him from the papers.

"I'm sure she does – I'm Ted Knight by the way." The blond man introduced himself, first to Lana and Clark. "Kent." He said. "I've read some of your work since I took my place in Metropolis – good stuff. I have to say if Superman were here, and I know talking to you Mr Kent is like talking to the man himself..."

"I wouldn't say exactly that." Clark interjected.

"Oh don't be so modest man, it's known around about that you and that other reporter... Lane isn't it? Anyway you two get all the goods on the Metropolis Marvel. You and he are close – or so I have been reliably informed."

Clark smiled, unsure what to say.

"So as I was saying – I really appreciate Superman saving my girl." Ted told him.

Clark was perplexed, it was almost as if this rich but very intelligent man was suggesting he knew the truth about his double life, although he knew that was absurd idea. Still it worried him.

"That is Superman's signature – saving the day I mean." He hardly paused before asking a direct question. "Miss Laurey, this mine is extracting radium isn't it?"

"Yes Mr Kent it is – radium has many uses – it is an important element in our countries future."

"Do you have a relationship with C5Met Chemicals?"

"They are responsible processing and refining our product. Why do you ask?"

"Have seen our headline today." Clark passed the paper to her, but Ted Knight took it holding it front of them both.

"Security Guard dies of Radium Burns. Fortune in Gems Stolen." He read out. "A strange headline indeed. I note the guard told Police he fired at the hooded criminal, but the bullets had no effect."

"He was possibly hysterical." Lana suggested.

"But the Picture Post's headline speculates that Metropolis invulnerable Marvel is a suspect." Ted said. "I've already read the papers this morning Mr Kent."

"I think we can rule Superman out." Clark said firmly.

"Oh I agree completely." Ted Knight said. "But it is strange don't your think?"

Doris Laurey seemed irritated by the their conversation. "Mr Kent does your Paper suspect some connection between Laurey Mines, and this crime, just because of the burns attributed to radium?"

"I'm not suggesting any blame is attached to you – or indeed C5Met Chemicals, but rather you are the victims of some other nefarious organisation."

"Whatever do you mean Mr Kent?"

"Are you aware your Uncle James is a member of the Brotherhood of the Light?" Clark asked.

"I wasn't – but I am familiar with the society, some of my girlfriends were involved in fund raising for them in Gotham."

"Julie Madison by any chance?" Clark asked recalling Bruce Wayne's fiancée, the victim of the Red Monks powers.

"Why yes Mr Kent – do you know the Waynes?" Doris replied.

Ted Knight smiled. "I believe Mr Kent may well have met Bruce in say a professional capacity."

Clark resolved that he really needed to investigate Ted Knight more closely, but for now a new line of investigation presented itself – one which Superman would have to act upon.

-'S'-

"I'm so sorry Mr Taylor." Alice said.

The Editor of the Daily Star stood up as the well dressed man rudely pushed past his young secretary.

"What I do for you?" He asked.

"I am Rolf Zimba."

"Okay – what do you want a medal?"

"I have one. One that says Golden Badge of the Brotherhood of the Light." Zimba slammed his hand down on Taylor's desk, at the same time he delivered a crumpled copy of the Daily Star.

"We demand you print a retraction."

"So you're denying all these people both dead, and missing were members or recent guests of your organisation?"

"This isn't the first time your Newspaper has printed matter which isn't pleasing to us." Zimba told him. "From now on you must submit all controversial matters to us before you publish."

Taylor stubbed out his half smoked cigarette. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I assure Mr Taylor. I am deadly serious. The Brotherhood demands the right of censorship. You must agree?"

"Certainly." He agreed, saying. "Sure you can get it – right on the Jaw." Taylor's fist connected hard, landing a powerful punch on the man's narrow black beard.

Zimba stumbled back falling to the floor. Moments later he collected himself and his hat.

"And don't you ever let me catch you around here again."

Zimba face curled into snarl. "You'll pay for this Taylor. You and your damned Newspaper."

-'S'-

"Kal-El." Diana began by embracing him, taking hold of his wrist as a fellow Warrior she drew him to her. "It is good to see you again. What brings you to Washington."

"Well I was in the neighbourhood and I wanted stop by, I heard you were back from Germany." He replied.

"Yes things got a little dicey in Berlin – besides Wotan has being strangely inactive."

"What do you think that means?"

Diana shrugged. "Perhaps the Fuhrer is saving his fire for something else – something big."

Superman sighed, shaking his head, some thoughts he realised were best left unsaid. Sometimes he wished he hadn't read Mien Kampf.

"Dr Occult." Diana stated. "You have visited him?"

"Yes I had a few questions – and he confirmed my suspicions that the Bat-Man spoke to him prior to going to Europe. I think Gotham's Dark Knight might be able to help me so I intend to meet with him."

Diana Prince's apartment was well ordered if a little plain. Functional he decided. Diana Princess and Champion of the Amazon Nation, sat across from him, she seemed sad and burdened.

"You are thinking of Greece." He guessed.

"Yes. Although not my country, I do share a common heritage with this - your old world, and to see it too fall under this Nazi's party's growing power – feeding Wotan's magic, it worries me."

"I wish I could do more." He confessed.

"We do what we can – but the gods of War welcome battle."

"What of the Fist of Ares?"

"I am still sure it is in Russia, along with the Red Monk's Abott, but Stalin rules his people harder than even the Nazi's." Diana shook her head. "The trail has gone cold – I suspect Rasputin has gone to ground – literally returning to the grave to marshal his powers."

"Diana I am convinced there is a link between the order of the Red Monks and a group called the Brotherhood of the Light." Superman explained. "That's why I'd really appreciate it if you could help me out – I mean we could find a clue to Rasputin's whereabouts, from his contacts here in America."  
"As long as I am here – that makes sense." She replied.

-'S'-

Superman closed in on remote location. He sighted sleek black car, and listening carefully he could make out the sound of radio playing. "In foreign affairs the Soviet Union denies that it's relationship with Nazi Germany is strained."

The station announcer's voice filled the cabin of the custom auto. A vast fin rode shark like from the roof and tail, and it's nose was covered by helm like face. Inside the enclosed cabin a gloved finger killed it.

The Bat-Man's distinctive cowl was lit by the pale green display tube, it flickered showing the approaching dot diverge into two until both disappeared. Only then did the Dark Knight hit the lights, from the eyes of the bat mask on the cars front twin piercing beams of light streaked out illuminating the night, revealing this isolated backdrop, trees lining the rural back road, miles from Gotham, miles from anywhere.

Through the glass of this armoured special, Superman watched the Bat-Man as he descended, his bright cloak billowing behind like a great red shield. Beside him the glittering gold trimmed form of Wonder Woman alighted to the earth, both of them stood illuminated by the powerful head lights.

The Bat-Man hit the latch and his door sprung open. He climbed out. "I told you both I wasn't interested in joining your club.

"If Zatara and his boss Woodley Allen want the Justice Society to do the FBI's dirty work, then count me out. I'm not _joking_ when I say I have enough on my plate dealing with Gotham."

"You are right the Justice Society's are helping with a number cases for the Feds – but that's not why we've come." Superman replied.

"We're not here on government business Bat-Man." Diana told him. "It's something more personal."

"Wonder Woman, I thought you were busy chasing shadows in Europe after that Weapon of Magical Domination – and Superman, Gotham is a long way from the shipping lanes - isn't that where you usually spend your nights?"

Clearly the Dark Knight had worked out who was the angel of the Atlantic convoys. "Even with my help thousand of tonnes of shipping still fall foul of the U-boat wolf packs."

"I know Superman. The closer you fly to Nazi territory the weaker you became due to the perverse magical power of Wotan."

Superman changed the subject. "This is an interesting auto, you call it the bat-mobile – right?"

The Man of Steel observed the Bat-Man scowl behind his mask, he folded his arms, and delivered a telling line. "I'm not responsible for the Presses fondness for catchy labels – but you know more about the Newspaper game than I."

"What do you mean – I'd know more about the press?" Superman asked guessing that Gotham's greatest detective had been investigating him.

The Bat-Man confirmed it. "Come Mr Kent – or I am wrong Clark?"

Superman folded his arms. "Touché Bruce, by the way I believe congratulations in order – you must send my regards to Mrs Wayne. "

Bat-Man smiled. "I suspected you had it all worked out."

"As do you Bruce." Superman acknowledged. "The radar detection system you have on the car – it's very impressive, I wondered what could be tracking us out here, as we flew in."

"Don't tell me you see radar waves too." The Bat-Man growled.

"Among other things."

"Noted." Bruce said. "At least you appreciate the wing on the car isn't just there for appearances sake."

Diana stepped forward saying. "Are you two finished with this male ritual?"

Superman laughed.

"Sure your Majesty - if this isn't Justice Society business, then what is it?" The Bat-Man asked.

"Truth is Bruce," Diana began, "we wouldn't ask but there are people missing, and I think your research might help."

"In what way?"

"There is someone using some form of mesmerism coupled – or even enacted by intense light frequencies."

"Interesting." Bruce acknowledged. "What can you tell me."

Superman outlined the facts, beginning with the attempted kidnap of the senator, and how this appeared to be connected to the Brotherhood of the Light, and how certain key people had acted completely out of character. "The Manager of the Metropolis Bank had no idea what he'd done – he still doesn't."

The Bat-Man nodded. "I believe there is a connection between this secret society and Julie's kidnapping. She was attending a fund raiser for homeless children organised by the Gotham Chapter of the Brotherhood when she first met the Red Monks agents."

Superman nodded, recalling his conversation with Doris Laurey.

"Of course I have been researching the process by which Red Monks mesmerised the young women they abducted, and their power appears to be connected to varying light frequencies.

"Vampires of course operate at night, and like many strange creatures adapted for darkness they are able to generate low levels of light – in this case within their eyes. This is the glowing demonic eyes of legend – it is this light emanations that mesmerise their victims."  
Superman considered this saying. "Then it's possible someone has replicated the hypnotic powers of the undead – while at the same time boosting brilliance so the process works in broad daylight."

The Bat-man nodded. "It seems so – and I hate to say it, that's the work of a genius. Have you any idea who this may be?" Bruce asked.

Superman shook his head. "Only that the people who have gone missing represent some of our best and brightest – I suspect the hand of a foreign power."

"You mean the Nazi's"

"Almost definitively."

"Logical – we know the Nazi's were already working with the Red Monks through Baroness Von Gunther – it fits the third Reich's ideology to weaponise this ability, freeing them from their unconventional allies." The Bat-Man said. "I will see what further information I can uncover about the Gotham Chapter – as my alter ego has a standing invitation to attend there lodge meeting."

"Whereas for some reason they don't want a reporter signing up." Superman replied. "But I'll call you if I get anything my side of things."

"Until then." Bruce acknowledged climbing into the bat-mobile.

-'S'-

Taylor called Kent into his office. "Is this about my article on Hitler's reasons for invading the Soviet Union Chief?" Clark asked.

Taylor shook his head. "Closer to home Kent." He lit a cigarette, and sifted through the pile of papers on his desk.

"Well I'm still working on the 'Demon-eyed Bandits' story Chief, there's got to be a connection between these reports of glowing eyed crooks, and this spate of jewel thefts."

"All that's great Kent but right now I need you to go over to the home of Freeman Chase – ah, here it is – this is the address." Taylor past Kent the scrap of paper.

"The missing Financier?"

"His wife has received a kidnap demand for fifty thousand Dollars."

"But that knocks our theory about Chase into a cocked hat. None of the other cases the Fed's flagged has involved a ransom demand, but after so long it just seems odd."

"Darn right it does Kent, weeks go by and not a whisper about Chase for nearly three months – and now this – something doesn't smell right to me."

"Okay Chief – I'm on it."

Kent found the story had been widely circulated, as the press pack had gathered outside the Metropolis Town House of the Chase family.

"Sorry... No reporters are being admitted." The Butler told Clark clearly, that however didn't stop Superman eavesdropping. Concentrating on the conversations inside the exclusive residence as he loitered outside he overhears a Federal Officer been told in no uncertain fashion by the Chase's wife. "I insist, I've been instructed to take the money to Carey Bridge myself, and I'm going to do it – My husbands safe return is my only concern."

Kent leaves the press hounds baying at the door.

-'S'-

Ted Knight escorted Doris Lee Laurey to the Metropolis party, a glittering array of socialites had gathered at the Governors Mansion for a reception for Prince Ahmed of Arabia.

"Going to parties like this isn't good for my health." Ted told his fiancée

"Bosh." Doris said. "You've been looking better of late." She stroked his cheek. "A better colour." Doris slipped off her furs. "A new man even." She suggested passing her coat to one of the Governors waiting staff.

"But no Superman." Ted said.

Doris laughed. "Look there is the guest of honour with Governor Anders, my his fire-star Jewel does sparkle." Doris pointed to the huge gem mounted on a golden chain.

"Mr Knight."

Ted turned to see a smartly dressed figure, sporting a distinctive moustache. "Gio Zatara." Ted shook the G-man by the hand. "Have you met my intended Doris Lee Laurey?"

"Pleased I'm sure." Gio kissed Doris's hand.

"Not the infamous magician?" Doris asked intrigued.

"Retired from the stage."

Knight made his excuses to Doris. "Let me get you a drink darling." Turning to Gio as they crossed to the bar he said. "I guess dear old Uncle Woodley sent you?"

Zatara looked surprised. "Okay Ted, Allen is my Boss – and also I know you're a good friend or Al Pratt, so I'm guessing you maybe know more than maybe you should."

"Let's say I've just been brought up to speed on a few things – including the Justice Society."

Zatara frowned. "I didn't think Al would have..."

"He didn't."

"Then how?"

"Here." Knight said taking what looked like a large pen from his pocket.

"What's this - a cigar holder?" Zatara asked.

"Try some of that magical psychometry you're so good at."

Knight watched the Magician assess him once more before taking hold of his Cosmic Rod.

"My God." Zatara said after a long moment of silence. Knight was certain the Magician had received a vision of how he had received the futuristic Cosmic Rod.

Gio lent close to him. "Okay Ted, I'll level with you. I'm here because of the Demon-eyed Bandits."

Knight nodded. "There are reports across the city of these strange figures attacking people – they seem to be targeting jewels – stones like the one Prince Ahmed is so obviously sporting."

Before Gio could answer a beautiful woman accosted him. "There you are." She said.

"May I introduce my date for this evening, Miss Diana Prince this is my good friend and I've just discovered a fellow traveller - Ted Knight."

"A pleasure to meet another friend." Diana said. "I believe you already know Mr Clark Kent and Miss Lois Lane of the Daily Star."

Ted smiled as Lois leapt on Gio's comment. "Am I a fellow traveller too?" She asked. "Because I'd love to know where I am – I mean with Clark here, I find sometimes I don't know whether we're coming or going."

Gio laughed. "I simply meant that Ted and I have both left behind one life, and embraced another more productive one."

Ted noted he side stepped the reporters question. He took his cue from the Magician. "And let's be honest, I was a wastrel until my Colleagues at S.T.A.R Labs encouraged to concentrate on pure research." Ted added. "So I guess you can say we've both found our destination in life n'est-ce pas?

Lois frowned. "Some how I think you guys are holding out on me."

A scream from the across the room grabbed their attention. Gun shots rang out. A strikingly pale man stumbled forward, in his hand the fabulous fire-stone Jewel, snatched moments before from the Prince's person.

"His eyes!" A woman screamed.

Knight watched as the Demon-eyed Bandit snarled at her, before falling to the floor.

"Silver bullets." Zatara told him drawing his gun.

Looking across the room Ted recognised the face of Tex Thompson, of the Texas Thompsons, the ace shot had brought down the Vampire.

Then it all went white.

-'S'-

Clark guessed immediately that 'The Light' must have remotely detonated a hidden brilliance bomb.

The room vanished before his eyes just as it had at Senator Billingsley's lecture.

He lost time, then as his senses returned Clark saw that Ted Knight and Gio Zatara had been knocked out along with Lois and everyone else. Diana Prince lay stunned for moment, but she too like him, was recovering.

"Can you see Diana." Superman asked taking her hand and drawing the Amazon to her feet.

"Barely – you?"

"Getting there – but this isn't the first time I've been zapped." Superman said. "Getting used to this trick now."

Wonder Woman replied by turning on her feet, losing the formal gown, and appearing in her colours beside him. "I smell burnt death – the light must have destroyed the Vampire."

Superman crossed to where the Vampire had fallen. "I think for a moment I was out of it, because the Jewel is gone – and I don't know how."

Wonder Woman now dashed outside. "There." Diana shouted pointing to the darkness. Leaping she flung herself into the shadows. Superman followed relying more on his other senses, his eyes still recovering from the Light's latest weapon. Diana had hold of a robed undead assassin – a Demon-eyed Bandit.

"How did you see him?" Superman said, as she wrapped the golden lasso of truth around the creature.

"I didn't." Wonder Woman replied. "I don't need my eyes to hunt."

Diana turned her attention to the Vampire."What are you doing – why are you working with 'The Light'?"

The Red Monk gasped, but finally the fires of the goddess Hestia lit even the darkest corner of the creatures long dead soul.

"It flies – flies away."

"What do you mean."

"The Light has the jewel – now light will mean death for the living as well as the undead. Now all will fear 'the Light'"

-'S'-

Ted Knight staggers to his feet, blind still his fingers reach for the Cosmic Rod in his pocket. Only now do his senses return to him. Doris lays beside him, his fiancée is still out cold. Lois Lane is recovering faster, she moves and murmurs, but the intrepid reporter is still unconscious. Gio Zatara however is on his feet inspecting a pile of ash on the Mansion floor.

Knight is not surprised that Kent and Prince are no where to be seen.

"This dust is all that remains of the Demon-eyed Bandit." The G-Man tells him.

"The Vampire." Ted added.

"Indeed." Gio said standing up. "By the way – we're really going to have to talk about what you let me see before – that future cannot be allowed to happen, Superman's reputation can't be despoiled this way."

"I know." Ted said. "It ways heavy on my heart, and I do want to help the Justice Society, but this device of mine, okay - I might have invented it or perhaps I should say I might be able to invent it one day – but today, I mean right now... Gio I'm still struggling to understand even the most basic principles it uses."

Gio stood up, and put a hand on Knight's shoulder. "We all struggle with unknown Ted, at least we can do it together for the common good.

-'S'-

Leaving the creature in the care of Diana, Superman returns across town to attend a previously arranged rendezvous.

He alights above the Financiers Town House arriving at first light. Superman observes Mrs Chase leaving her home quietly by the rear door. Taking a waiting car she drives out of Metropolis into open country. Following the kidnapper's instructions, she places under the third arch of the Carey Railway Bridge, the plain mailbags containing the fifty thousand dollars. Superman waits as the distraught woman leaves the scene.

It does not take long for a shady figure to emerge. The man makes a bee line for the money drop, and as his hands take hold of the bags, Superman takes hold of him. The Man of Tomorrow's eidetic memory identifying the low ranking enforcer from Slam Bradley's files.

"Jake Mobray, so Rocks Gordon sent you out here?" The Man of Tomorrow lifts the hoodlum high above the ground. As the earth recedes beneath them he says. "Now Jake you seem to be in pretty good physical condition it would be a pity if I had to pulverise you to get the information I'm after."  
"I don't know where Chase is." Mobray pleads. "Honest I don't."

"You expect me to believe you? I come over all butter fingers when I hear lies."

Jake glances down. "I'm just a runner, honest Superman I was supposed to watch the dame make the drop and pick up the dough." Superman listens to the man's pulse, and believes him. Dropping to ground once more.

"And what? Run it back to Rock's – whereabouts is he holed up Jake?"

"Metrodale." Mobray gasps in glee, as their feet touched the ground once more. "He's at his house in Metrodale."

"Is Chase there?" Superman asked, but before Gordon's enforcer could answer a bight light burned down from above, striking the ground where they stand, the resulting heat was intense beyond Superman's experience, staggering back he saw to his horror that Jake Mobray the man, the ground, and the surrounding area smouldered, a ring of fire flickering subsisting on the charred dirt. Mobray was unrecognisable, his remains little more charcoal. Staring upwards Superman realised he was facing something unknown. Skyward the Metropolis Marvel flies, scanning the surrounding area, a flash of reflective silvered light is the last thing he sees, and Superman accelerates in direction of Metrodale, and his elusive aerial quarry.

-'S'-

Lois followed the dark town car as it wound it's way into the rich suburbia of the Metrodale development. Taylor had tasked her with digging around to see what she could find out about Rolf Zimba, the man who had threatened the Daily Star.

It did not surprise her to see Zimba's car driving to the home of Rock's Gordon. Parking a short distance from the plush residence, Lois was soon climbing the wall and dropping cat like into the back yard of the big house. Easing through the gardens, the intrepid reporter carefully makes sure she can't be seen, before edging along, taking time to peep into the ground floor windows until she came to Gordan's study. French doors opened onto the garden, and hearing voices Lane risked all as she glanced into the room.

There caught sight of Zimba, his dark narrow beard was distinctive. He was having a heated conversation with the gangster.

"What do you think you are doing!" Zimba asked "The press are all over this kidnap story now."

Gordon yelled back. "Don't you come here Zimba and tell me how to run my operation – so I put the squeeze on the Casey dame, what of it?

"If you ask me it's stupid to waste of a good opportunity to make some dough. Besides I've had to take care of Laurey and Crawford for the last few weeks - hell I deserve a bonus."

"You fool, all you've done is attract the attention of Superman – he's probably only moments away."

"What?"

"He was waiting at the drop for your man, 'The Light' had to take care of Jake."

"Now wait..."

"Shut up!" Zimba growled.

Lois felt the pressure of gun in her back. She cursed her self, she had let her guard down, let herself be drawn in by the argument.

"Boss." A voice called out from behind her. "I've a caught a dame snooping."

Lois was pushed inside Gordon's office. "I recognise you." Rocks said. "Your that reporter from the Star, you and your dopey partner tried to interview me a few months back."

Zimba subconsciously rubbed his chin. "The Daily Star is going to suffer for this behaviour."

"Will I do?" Superman asked as he crashed into the room taking out part of wall and sending Rocks and his henchman sprawling.

"Take your hands of that girl – murder and kidnap, you fellas are going to be ones suffering." Superman pulled Lois to him. "You okay?"

"Wasn't sure you cared." She said.

"Still smarting about France." he laughed.

Zimba pulled a light-gun, Superman recognised the same strange device 'The Light' had given his men to kidnap Senator Billingsley, confident that he was in no real danger the Man of Tomorrow said.

"Give it up Zimba – you're not even wearing the protective goggles you need to use that thing." He said raising his hand to shield his eyes.

Zimba smiled. "That's where you are wrong, I'm not the one who needs protection at all." He pressed the trigger, the Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation device fired, and a bright green beam lit the room. Zimba squinted, but Superman felt the unmistakable touch of K-metal radiation, his last conscious thought was that 'The Light' had not only weaponised the demon eyes of the Vampire – but Kryptonite along with it.

-'S'-

James Olsen ran his camera held ready, the fires that tore through the Metrodale suburb were both viscous and inexplicable. Taylor had lost his temper, Kent and Lane were missing, both had vanished while chasing down leads on the mysterious Light, and now Olsen was on his own, getting the best pictures he could of the terrible disaster that had struck Metropolis.

"Any idea where this all started?" A reporter asked the Fire Chief. "Can you cope?" Another demanded.

"Where doing our best, I can't pretend a fire like this isn't stretching our resources."

Jimmy dodged the Police line determined to get closer to the brave men who were attempting to hold back the flames.

A flash of colour caught his eye, and Jimmy turned expecting to see Superman, his heart thumped with excitement, and more than a little fear, but the intrepid young man was ready for the shot he had planned for in his minds eye.

"Wonder Woman." He gasped as the Amazon landed in the midst of the flames. Jimmy's camera popped a flashbulb.

Turning the young photographer was sure this had to be Superman, but the colours struck him as all wrong, the deep red of suit, wasn't some trick of the flames, neither was the black green cloak. Jimmy zeroed his camera on the figure. The caped man carried a long glowing staff, the central part a golden rod from which glowing lamps extended. A bright Star shone on his chest, holding the rod before him, as if he were a sorcerer from the pages of a fairy tale, the mystery man seemingly pushing the flames away from buildings, before answering Wonder Woman's call.

"Starman! Under here!" The Amazon shouted.

"Starman." Jimmy whispered, as he took another set of pictures.

The house Wonder Woman had pointed too, incredibly lifted from the ground, a fiery ball of flame and timber, beneath in the cellar a family hid from death. Wonder Woman plucked them free carrying them behind the fire fighters lines. Starman the let the burning house fall back to earth crushing it as it did – extinguishing the flames. Olsen wrote in the Daily Star, his first front page' "It was was if this new mystery man possessed mastery of the force gravity itself."

-'S'-

Zimba stood before 'The Light' the masked man wore the full length robes of the Brotherhood, the cowl concealed his face, and his eyes were hidden behind enclosed goggles, from beneath the mask the hoarse voice said. "You have returned."

"Sir. I have Superman."

Zimba watched the mysterious figure move through the shadows, his boss luminescence becoming more visible as they walked the tunnels of this hidden complex.

"Excellent. I take it the modified light-gun behaved as predicted."

"Yes – the Man of Steel collapsed just like a regular guy, but..."

"What is it Zimba?" The Light snapped, extending a his hand.

Zimba stepped back, the last thing he wanted was to be touched by his master, trying his best not to show fear he said. "The woman – the reporter Lane."

"Yes I recall her – from the Daily Star, Superman's principle cheer leader in the press."

"It's just odd, because she collapsed too, I mean I was fine, as was Gordon and his goons, but this reporter she just folded along with Superman."

The Light stopped in his tracks.

Zimba continued. "I thought the Krypto Ray Gun only worked on Superman – that it was harmless to ordinary people?"

"How fascinating." The Light said turning down the passage way he walked towards the cells.

Zimba followed and he watched as 'The Light' viewed the captives, through the cell door's glazed view port.

Superman lay slumped on the floor, the green light from the modified light-gun filled the chamber.

"I set the gun up like you said." Zimba pointed to the device. A mains cable ran to a wall socket, the barrel was held in a mount, and the ray shone through a opening and into the cell. 'The Light' altered the settings using a resistor, dialling down the power, all the while watching the two figures.

-'S'-

Wonder Woman used her bracelets to generate a protective bubble around her self, as she pushed through the flames. She wondered where was Superman? Her hunters eye, gift of the goddess Artemis guided her even in this hades on Earth. Diana searched for survivors. She led the new warrior Starman, as he fought alongside her, forcing away the flames and lifting the burning wreckage of Metrodale from their path. Elsewhere Zatara and his colleagues were at work, but there was no sign of the Metropolis Marvel.

"What manner of weapon could do this?" Starman asked.

"I don't know." Diana replied, but as she squinted in the face of the hot orange flames, the words of the Red Monk haunted her thoughts "_The Light has the jewel – now light will mean death for the living __as__ well as the undead. __Now all will fear 'the Light'_"

-'S'-

Lois felt terrible as she rose from the hard concrete floor, her head throbbed, and her whole body ached. Superman lay beside her unconscious, his breath agonisingly slow, for what seemed an age she shook him trying to get a response. Around her the green tinted light seemed to lessen. Superman eventually moaned and pulled himself upright against the wall of the cell.

"Superman – oh thank goodness you are awake." She said.

"Barely." He said with a forced smile. Lois fell against him, propping up his unnaturally weakened frame.

The cell door opened. "Come with me." Zimba said pointing the Light-gun at them. "You can either walk, or I'll zap you and I'll have you dragged – your choice."

Superman frowned, and slowly stepped forward. Lois struggled to help him, she felt weak herself, as Zimba directed them through the windowless corridors to another room.

"Get in there."

The room was larger, but no less a prison cell, more a holding area, for a number of men milled around, most had a vacant defeated look about them.

Beyond them was a heavy door – an entrance to a second room beyond. It looked ominous.

Lois recognised two of her fellow captives. They were among the missing; the kidnapped scientists, industrialists and leaders of men.

Carl Bransom a leading Physicist broke the silence. "My God, they've even taken Superman."

Lois turned to him. "What's going on here?"

"Well isn't it obvious – we are prisoners of 'the Light'" John Standing told her.

"What is his plan?" Superman asked.

"He means to use us to take over America." Bransom said.

"How." Lois asked.

'The Light's voice boomed into the room over a hidden speaker. "Isn't that obvious Miss Lane. Superman will do it for me."


	62. Chapter 62

1941 – Part Three.

Bruce Wayne settled into the sumptuous leather chair in the Temple of the Brotherhood of the Light – Gotham Chapter.

He picked up a news paper from the side table, The Daily Star's headline read. "Churchill pledges solidarity with the United States against Japan."

A familiar voice addressed him through the broadsheet. "I'm so pleased you found time to attend Bruce."

Wayne, lowered the paper, and picked up his cut glass tumbler. "Why Harvey Midas, I didn't know you were a member."

The older man sat down beside him. He lit a cigar, and said. "Oh of course Bruce, a man of my position, must circulate." He gestured to the Star's headline. "It seems to me to be short sighted to tie ourselves so closely to the old world order. Like that Atlantic Charter business over the summer."

Bruce shrugged, and did not admit to an opinion. "I just was looking for the race results."

Harvey Midas laughed. He was an investment manager and a very wealthy man in his own right. Bruce knew him both personally and in business.

"So,.. how are my portfolios performing?" He asked the older man.

"Oh they're fine." Midas chuckled. "But we can talk about that another day surely. Besides you're in for a treat tonight old fellow, we have a visiting speaker, the eminent Dr Doog from our Metropolis Chapter."

"Really – I can't wait."

Bruce soon found his insincere wish granted. Dr Doog came forward and stood before the lectern on the small stage. An elderly well built man with a wide smile and grey curling hair that he wore unfashionably long, as if from a former age. He wore the white robes of the Brotherhood, the main lights dimmed.

"Centuries ago visitors from another universe visited our own, their fascination with all things – an insatiable thirst for knowledge is the foundation of our Brotherhood – we seek light in darkness; enlightenment."

Bruce almost chocked on his drink. "Doog looks harmless enough." He whispered to Midas. "But that sounds like hogwash."

"Now Bruce be patient, surely you don't believe Earth is an island – I mean to say in the vastness of outer space, there has to be intelligent life?" Harvey whispered.

Wayne frowned, listening to Doog as he spoke.

"Sixty Five Million years ago a strange visitor from another planet, with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men came to this our own solar system, with him Atra-Hasis brought many warriors called the U'tuk-Ku to defeat his enemies who had fled to this corner of the Milky Way Galaxy.

"The great war lasted many centuries. Mars was completely devastated becoming a desert world devoid of life, Venus was torn from her orbit and sent careering towards Jupiter not to return to her present place until the age of the Pharaohs, and fifth Planet called by the ancients Phaeton, was torn apart and destroyed, all that remains are the asteroids that circle our sun between the inner planets and the giant Jupiter.

"On Earth the U'tuk-Ku destroyed the prehistoric civilisation of this world, the pinnacle of reptilian evolution, erasing their cities and all evidence of their existence; using terrible bombs which harness the incredible power of the Atom. As a result the great Dinosaurs died out - extinct by the terrible cold and darkness that followed, and in the aeons that followed much later, man eventually arose to discover beings far older than him could control the natural world, could alter the course of rivers, direct lightening and even destroy worlds, they called these great powers gods, and worshipped them.

"We of the Brotherhood of the Light are latter day Prometheans – we steal fire from these gods, these ancient architects of mystery, to bring to our world the light of knowledge, fire which can warm our souls!"

As Dr Doog talked Bruce noticed the light above the stage flicker with a strange frequency, and although his mind screamed at him to move from the seat, he found to his horror that his body refused to answer, he was quite awake, but entirely paralysed.

-'S'-

George Taylor sat with his friends at their favourite bar. Colonel Sam Lane looked directly at Bradley. "Anything about my little girl Slam?"

The Private Eye shook his head, and took a drink of his beer. "Sorry Bowler, not a whisper on the street. Neither nothing about your boy Clark Kent either Stitches."

Taylor looked at the Daily Star's headline. "_Metrodale Fire kills 30, injures hundreds."_ Under it "_Mystery Men seen at scene_." He looked at Sam Lane. "With both of them missing it makes me wonder what kind of trouble they've found."

They all knew Lois had been following Rolph Zimba.

The Colonel drained his drink. "Look George, don't feel bad on my account. My girl knew the score, hell if I do."

"The Feds found Rocks Gordan, and the two fugitives Jim Laurey and his foreman Crawford, burned to death in Gordan's place." Slam said. "My contact at the Fire department tells me that it had to have started there, spreading like – well, wild fire to the other properties in Metrodale – if Lois was there, then I'd bet my shirt she'd already moved on before it all happened."

Lane sighed. "There has been no sign of Superman either – and believe me I've tried to call him. If my girl has been dragged into something by that Kent fellow, chasing down Superman..."

"I know." Taylor nodded. "But like they say - no news is good news."

-'S'-

"Starman."

The caped avenger nodded, his head was covered by a red cowl, and yellow discs circled his ears, a shark like fin crested his head. "Director Allen - you contacted me?"

In the FBI offices Opal City Maryland, Woodley Allen had been appointed as Chief liaison to the Justice Society of America, it's members had become deputised as Special US Marshals by Presidential order. Starman was the newest member of the Society, mysteriously appearing on the scene and gaining immediate recognition by his peers. Allen privately wondered how this had happened so quickly? Other inductees like the diminutive pugalist the Atom, and the Hour Man - so called because of his hour-glass emblem, had been known to the authorities as vigilantes for some time before they had been invited by the JSA's current members to join FDR's secret mystery-men volunteer program. Starman was aptly named, he might as well as dropped from the heavens, an over night sensation. Yet Allen reflected none could not question his abilities. Starman had worked miracles during the Metropolis's Great Fire of Metrodale along with Wonder Woman and other attending JSA members, they had saved many lives.

Starman's powers appeared to be genuinely super-human, and from Allen's perspective it was an important distinction. Other costumed vigilantes had emerged since Superman's début in 38, and while most were well meaning kooks who quit after a stern talking to by regular officer of the law, a few were highly skilled operatives – who deserved JSA membership. Then there were the Metahumans; a term that had been adopted by the Federal Government as used in the top secret memos shared between agencies for those measured against Superman's incredible skill set.

Woodley Allen capped the secret radio Starman had given to him, he had no idea how the pen sized transmitter worked, beyond that it sent a signal that Starman quickly answered in person.

The dark green cloaked man closed the window of Allen's office, as he entered, coming over to the Directors desk.

"Starman, you asked at our last meeting whether I had any information concerning an infiltration of otherwise benign secret societies by fifth columnists."

"Yes – we – the Justice Society, are particularly interested in the Secret Brotherhood of the Light." Starman began. "I have discovered that James Laurey was diverting resources from the Laurey Uranium Mine in the Metropolis Hills, to another secret location in the vicinity, he was using muscle provided by Rocks Gordon to keep a lid on this. I believe this was for 'The Light' who has been using the Brotherhood of the Light, particularly in Metropolis to his own nefarious ends."

"I read the Daily Star exposé."

Starman continued. "The Justice Society now believes that there is an connection between 'The Light' and the ancient order of the Red Monks."

"Yes well, I can confirm we've been investigating the Brotherhood of the Light ourselves." He told him. "And we've found references to an new inner organisation, kind of like a wheel within a wheel, my best Agent believes this to be non other than Grotak Bund."

"The Nazi group?"  
"Yes. One and the same. Intelligence sources believe these home grown fascists are marshalling the same old faces on Wall Street who opposed the New Deal almost ten years ago. That is the group that planned the 'The Business Plot'. Perhaps you recall how Major General Smedley Butler exposed this coup to congress."

"I do – of course, you mean the White House Putsch." Starman stated. "The plan to march thousands of War Veterans on Washington and seize control of the nation."

"Absolutely – by undermining the nations economic and political stability, the enemies of liberty and democracy intend to succeed today, where there earlier plans failed – to set up a fascist dictatorship, one sympathetic to the Axis powers ambitions and ideals."

-'S'-

"There. Look Robin it's Bruce."

Dick Grayson looked down from the roof top, he could see the tall figure of Gotham's infamous son walking to the dark sedan. "That's crazy Mercy." The boy of twelve turned the dark costumed figure beside him, the midnight blue cape fell around them, concealing the svelte form of Julie Madison Wayne.

It had taken Bruce's fiancée some months to get over the supernatural kidnapping of the previous year, but she had come through her ordeal at the hands of the Red Monks stronger and more determined. She had emerged reforged, Julie Madison had married into the family in more ways than one.

"Some thing's wrong." Mercy said.

"Too right. Why would Bruce leave by the back door, why take that car," Robin gestured to the big town car, "when the Rolls is parked out front."

Robin watched as Mercy leapt the parapet roof wall, somersaulting she twisted as only an accomplished gymnast could.

Robin knew Julie Madison had been Fédération Internationale de Gymnastique States Champion three years running before her sixteenth birthday. Mercy caught the fire escape as she tumbled sliding down the metal frame to alight on the back street pavement, the midnight blue cloak billowed like wings, as she alighted the ground. Robin followed, he too as a trained acrobat was complete control of his fall, repelling effortlessly from the steel gantry. It had been more than a year since his parents had been murdered in full glare of the public, in the big top itself. Killed by the Mob boss Zucco, the King of Gotham, because the Circus had refused to pay his enforcers protection money. Bruce Wayne had rescued him, given him a home and a purpose. Every time Dick used his family's almost preternatural aerialist methods, taking the guise of Robin - skills he learned as babe in arms, he felt vindicated. A step closer to seeing justice done.

His Lincoln Green cloak seemed black in the night light, and Robin disappeared into the urban jungle as surely as the merry men of old melted into the shadow of Nottingham's verdant forest.

Mercy however let the headlights of the big auto illuminate the Midnight blue and deep purple of her costume, it was very theatrical. Robin took this opportunity to drop in close beside the big car's flank unseen. He reaches into his hidden backpack and removes a metal box, it's magnetic frame binds to the chassis rail as Robin jams the device under the auto and out of sight, while turning it's circuit on. He then turned his attention back to Mercy.

The Bat-Man had told Robin that after being unable to compete in the 1932 Los Angeles Olympics, Julie had concentrated on ballet and the stage. She had almost become Portia Storme – starlet, her agents had billed her as the new Delores De Winters, but a different kind of star light had proven a stronger attraction.

"Mr Wayne." Julie said emerging from her crouch with accomplished grace, moving only as a dancer might.

Robin frowned under his domino mask. Something was very wrong with his Mentor.

Bruce walked forward apparently oblivious to his surrounding, there was a mechanical aspect to his movements that Mercy recognised all too well.

"It's one of those costumed clowns." There were two heavies with Bruce, a third in the car behind the wheel.

The first guy was big, and he pointed at Mercy as he spoke. "Dumb Bat-Man wannabe's. What is it with this town, every freak wants to wear a sheet and play like it's Halloween?"

He was armed, but this made him over confident, the iron in his hand proved to be no advantage as a high kick from Mercy sent him reeling, the gun slipped from his grip as she struck his arm with hardened steel in her gauntlet wrist guards. He fell down and stayed there.

Robin struck from the shadows, the second man steadied himself for a shot at Mercy, but the sling in the boy's hand delivered a steel ball to the back of his head. He crumpled.

"Bruce." Mercy took the strangely unresponsive man's hand, but Wayne just moved to get in the car, the driver seeing his friends downed, found his own gun, a shot rang out in Mercy's direction.

She ducked. Bruce didn't react at all.

Robin leapt at the shooter who hung from the open drivers door. The boy wonder carried him to the floor, but the tough guy recovered on the pavement, moving like the wrestler he probably was, throwing the lighter youth from him. Robin rolled nimbly to his feet, as Mercy delivered a salvo of punches at the driver, knocking him back down again.

Bruce got into the car.

The big auto lurched forward with Wayne at the wheel, Mercy and Robin watched in horror as Bruce Wayne tore away from them leaving a line of rubber on the road.

Mercy kept the driver down on the ground, landing hard on the man's chest, she dragged his face close to hers.

"What's going on here – where are you taking him?"

Robin knew she was right. Bruce was acting under some form of compulsion – it fitted all the facts. For Julie it was maddening, because she had experienced something very like this.

Her prisoner seemed stunned. "You're a dame."

Robin watched as she jammed her fist into the nerve cluster in his shoulder. The thug shuddered and growled in pain. "Tell me." Mercy demanded. "Say my name."

"Metropolis. Barrow Ridge." The man gasped "What are you." He whispered.

Mercy said.

"_The quality of __M__ercy is not strain'd. _

_It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven _

_ Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: _

_ It blesseth him that gives and him that takes." _

Leaving him with those words Mercy and Robin disappeared into the night.

-'S'-

Wotan swept over the Battlefield. German troops poured into the Soviet Union, and he felt his power swell, as over four and half million troops from the Axis attacked the huge eighteen thousand mile front. In the first few days nearly four thousand Soviet aircraft had been destroyed, for a handful of Nazi planes. Focusing his will he entered the minds of the commanders, the officers, probing for signs of the Red Monks, searching for the trail of the Hand of Mars. Wotan rejoiced in the brutality, the principles of Hitler's policy which saw the Soviet Union as populated by "Untermenschen" - ethnic Slavs ruled by their "Jewish Bolshevik". It was an inescapable battle against "pan-Slav ideals", in which victory would lead to "permanent mastery of the world".

The dark god was sure that in the depths of old Russia the Red Monk's Abbott had fled with the Weapon of Magical Domination he craved. Wotan would not let anything or anyone German or Russian stand in his way.

-'S'-

Superman was strapped into the chair under the pulsating green light, his bones ached and his muscles screamed. He strained against the metal straps. The colours beyond him whirled as gradually the beam from 'The Light's' odd projector changes, blue, red, orange, green, yellow, purple.

"Come Superman – stop resisting, the longer you hold out against my conditioning the more pain you must endure." The Light said.

"Never." Superman growled through gritted teeth.

"Come now, how many days has it been – weeks now since I strapped you into my mechanism, electricity never sleeps, my machine needs no rest. You may be super-human, but you are human, you will break, the Light with take you, and you will answer to me."

Superman shook, he knew the words of this masked monster were true, but that didn't stop him fighting.

"Bring in the girl, and that man Chalmers." The Light instructed.

Superman strained once more as Lois was dragged into the Light's Brain Washing Chamber. With her was the director of C5Met – clearly at some point since his capture 'The Light' had added the Manager of the Chemical plant to his collection of 'Thought Robots', because his eyes were glassy and his movements slow and measured, having none of the personality of the man who had talked to Lois and Clark in his office some weeks before.

"Now perhaps an experiment." The Light said, as he cast off his gloves a green luminescence seeped from pale purple blotchy skin. He turned to Chalmers, removing his heavy full face mask. "Do you recognise me?"

Chalmers looked at the middle aged man, with long greying curly hair, and said slowly. "You are my new researcher Brett Bryson. You died of Radium burns."

"As you can see – I did not, I did however suffer greatly, but thanks to certain enhancements to my physiology Superman, I did not die, instead I absorbed the radiations from my massive accidental exposure, and now I suffer from certain side effects. Some as you see from my appearance are unpleasant. Others are more useful."

'The Light' reached out and touched Chalmers, who even in his conditioned state reacted falling in agony, as radiation burns spread across his body. "As you see Superman I can release radiation with only a touch."

"You monster." Lois wept

"Now I can try another experiment. I can see what happens when I touch Miss Lane – would you like me to do that – or perhaps you will simply stop resisting me."

"No!" Superman cried.

"Don't do it Superman." Lois said. "I'm not going to let you become a weapon for this monster, I'd rather die."

"Okay." 'The Light' said extending his fingers.

Superman strained against his restraints he pushed – he pulled, his mind raced.

'The Light's finger stopped a fraction before Lois's face. He smiled. "It is done."

"What?" Lois spat.

"My dear." It was not his acquiescence I required, but rather for him to be placed in an impossible situation to stretch his body, his mind, and his emotions to the limit – to break him.

"With a man like – ah... the late Mr Chalmers, it was easy to torture him, physically, to push him to mental limits, threaten his loved ones, his wife and children and so on – but Superman, who is he, what are his limits, and who does he love? Well I think we've answered that question don't you?"

"You're not going to kill me."

"No – your far too useful now I know how much he really cares about you."

'The Light' turned to Superman. "Now a test." He altered the settings on his machine, the kryptonite light weapon blinked out, and the Man of Steel was released from his metal bonds. He stepped free moving slowly and deliberately just as Chalmers had once done.

"My super Thought Robot – go and destroy!"

-'S'-

High in the Salem Hills stands an old tower of stone. Within the tower dwells Doctor Fate, creature of mystery, who knows the secret knowledge of past ages, magic both white and black, and other secrets long forgotten by the world of men.

Kent Nelson sleeps, he dreams, his mind fills with images all too real, vibrant they demand his attention. Dawn breaks, and so does Nelson's dreams, slick with cold sweat the academic rises from his bed, and crosses the chamber to where a crystalline sphere stands on a rocky plinth. Kent reaches for the glassy surface – his fingers touch and from the depths of subconscious a torrent of images flow behind him the golden helm of Nabu glows brightly. Within the ball of crystal pictures form, newspaper headlines proclaim. "United States Bankrupt!" "Federal Government declares National State of Emergency." "Dollar only worth the paper it is printed on!" "Washington has no Gold – Lend Lease Cancelled!"

Kent Nelson runs his fingers through his long golden hair, as he sees a fiery hole in the ground where once The United States Bullion Depository had stood. Commonly held to be impregnable in his vision the fortified vault building had been reduced to flames and rubble."

The final headline struck him cold. The Daily Star's banner read.

"Superman Hitler's Agent all along?"

The Helm of Nabu floated to him, placing the golden metal cowl over his head, Doctor Fate emerged in gold and vibrant blue.

Pressing his fingers to the polished alloy Fate concentrated the magics of order, and from his mind he reached out across United States of America.

-'S'-

Ted Knight's wrist sheath vibrated silently, he stood up from the exclusive Opal City's restaurant, and excused himself. "I'm so sorry darling." He said to Doris Lee Laurey. "It appears I'm having one of my turns."

"Not again Ted." She sighed, flicking back her blonde curls. "You've been so much better recently."

Knight smiled an apology, and left for the bathroom. Twitching his forearm muscle, a concealed switch was engaged and the Cosmic Rod slipped from it's hiding place under his sleeve, and in a smooth motion it fell to his hand. Instead of a signal from Woodley Allen, the advanced device from another millennium relayed a message from Salem's Mysterious Tower.

"I'll make contact with them immediately." Ted responded, dialling his Cosmic Rod for Gotham.

-'S'-

Washington DC in the apartment of Diana Prince. The white marble Amazonian construct – the Mental Radio, resembling an ornate mantle clock engaged, as Doctor Fate's magical communication was channelled through it to Wonder Woman.

-'S'-

Alan Scott stretched in front of the draughtsman board, where he worked on a design for a rail terminus, as he inked a line across the page, his green ring throbbed with power and the voice of Doctor Fate projected directly into his mind.

-'S'-

Jason Peter Garrick kicked back in his lab at Chemical Research Incorporated, his apparently shop standard radio played the tune Chattanooga Choo Choo featuring Glen Millar's Orchestra from the summer hit film Sun Valley Serenade, the pencil in his hand blurred as he tapped out the beat. The Big Band's brassy sound was interrupted as his hidden police scanner circuit kicked in, but it was not a report from Keystone City's finest but the ominous tones of Doctor Fate.

"Jay please advance at speed to The United States Bullion Depository at Fort Knox, Kentucky."

-'S'-

Diana accelerated towards Kentucky, encapsulated inside her invisible plane the magical expression of gift of Hermes, she knew that among the Justice Societies roll call only certain members had capability to reach Fort Knox quickly enough to meet this unprecedented attack predicted by Doctor Fate's timely visions.

Sweeping down upon the Bullion Depositary from the invisible plane she saw the chaos that was already unfolding. Then to her left and right objects shot past her at incredible speeds flashing like Catherine Wheels the balls of light only registering with her because of Diana's god given hunters eye. The Princess of Themyscira realising the fire she saw was but the reflection of the sun, these almost invisible craft were like mirrored glass in the air, almost as invisible as her own magical plane. Wonder Woman banked to avoid their unpredictable course. She recognised them descriptions Military Intelligence had received from their British Counterparts following Major 'Wild' Bill Donovan's clandestine visit to Britain earlier in the year.

"Doctor Fate." She radioed over the Amazonian psychic frequency. "I have sighted Foo Fighters over Fort Knox. I estimate them to have a diameter of roughly four feet."

"Too small for human pilots." Fate responded. "Perhaps they are remotely controlled."

"If so there must be a line of sight operator in the vicinity." Diana replied while contemplating the strange drones purpose.

-'S'-

The Flash had been first on the scene, he was after all the fastest man alive.

"Superman stop!" He shouted.

The Man of Tomorrow crashed through the gates, machine guns roared the repetitive chorus of hot lead in flight, it poured down on him like so much horizontal rain.

The Flash knew something was very amiss, the fluidity and confidant manner Superman employed was gone, in it's place was the stumbling hesitancy of man drunk.

The Man of Steel advances to the Depositary's front entrance of the granite faced building.

Superman smashes against the outdoors that breaks through into the marble faced chamber, to the left and right stainless steel doors. US federal mint guards try to stop the super powered raider, but their pistols are even less effective than the heavy Thompson machine gun emplacements.

Superman takes the left hand door, and into a large work room, which contains the main vault.

The door itself is seven layers of super-hardened steel and weighs in excess of twenty tons, bound to the steel frame, reinforced concrete walls by huge hydraulic piston activated bolts.

"Superman stop." The Flash calls again. Jay Garrick hurtles past the stunned guards and finally stops long enough to catch Superman's attention, but the Man of Tomorrow is not the ally of the Scarlet n' Blue Speedster today, and a punch whips toward him. The Flash darts away as the vault rocks with the sound of the supersonic blow coming to rest on the reinforced walls.

The Flash tries again, but the Man of Tomorrow launches his attack. Jay wonders how hard it would be to avoid Superman's blisteringly fast blows if he were himself, but whatever strange power possessed Superman it took the edge off his speed and balance. But the Scarlet n' Blue Speedster knew that one punch could still be deadly. Thinking how he had to try and keep him from the vault, desperately raining punches at speed didn't hurt Superman, but the vibration the Flash created held him back.

Superman roared in frustration creating a concussion wave of sound that echoed around the reinforced building blowing out windows, and sending out a blast of super breath sending Jay reeling though an ice storm.

-'S'-

Diana danced through the hail of bullets, the panicked guards were taking no chances, her bracelets sent the hot metal slugs veering away from her. Then Doctor Fate cast a spell of supernatural mist, he descended with the clouds, fire burning from his finger tips and smoke enveloped the square squat depositary building. Diana drove into the Vault room, there Superman had dug his fingers into the twenty ton steel door, and the sound of the steel being wrenched from the reinforced concrete structure echoed like thunder. The Flash was shaken but coming around. Then the vault door broke open, and the inner chamber was revealed.

The central vault was a two story complex surrounded by reinforced sub rooms, in it was close to twenty thousand tonnes of gold, almost 650 million troy ounces, over twenty billion dollars.

The golden lariat of Wonder Woman encircled the rampant Man of Tomorrow, and Diana took the strain of his mechanical progress, halted he turned to face her.

"Superman." She called out to him.

He was beside her, and she took his wrists, feeling his pulse, straining against him as he bear down on her.

"Superman." She said again pushing back against the Man of Steel.

"Kal, please – whatever it is that has possessed you, for all that is sacred fight it."  
For a moment she felt him hesitate. "Superman, Kal, please, it's me, it's Diana.

Around them the room turned green as Alan Scott's power ring came into play the Green Lantern arose from the vault, able to pass through solid objects both he and the ethereal energy he wielded. With power of will the Emerald Warrior now wrapped giant green fingers of power around the massive steel vault door and lifted twenty tons back into place.

Superman stood before her, they were locked together in a wrestlers embrace, she stared into his blue eyes, looking for more, hoping the spark of recognition she had lit within him might grow.

"Superman you stand for truth and justice, not theft and vandalism. Kal don't fight your friends, don't raise your hands to strike me. I am Diana – Wonder Woman."

"Diana?" He said finally, and she felt him go limp against her. Holding him upright she said.

"Superman come on back to us."

Alan Scott looked across at them. "What happened to him?"

"It was some kind of super-hypnotism," Doctor Fate declared. "This is science even I have not witnessed before today." Then said. "Let me assist Emerald Warrior." Fate pointed at the warped steel door summoning flames from his hands he directed energy into the metal.

With an engineers eye the Green Lantern created hammers and vices to apply the pressure of his green energy given solid form to the hot steel and the vault door twisted and misshapen began to bend back to usable state.

"Is the Flash all right?" Superman asked.

Jay came to him. "I've been better, but I'm good enough – what happened to you?"

Superman frowned. "'The Light' happened to me." He looked around at the devastated vault room, shaking his head. "He has men imprisoned, others are being forced to do his will." He stood up. "I must go to them."

"Wait." Diana said. "Are you sure you are recovered?"

"He has Lois."

She nodded understanding. Her face spoke of her deep concern for her friend.

Superman took to the air, and was gone.

Doctor Fate turned to Diana, and took hold of her shoulder. In a burst of light she found herself above the Depositary – as was the Green Lantern. Instinctively she crossed her vambraces creating a shield around herself as the beam of energy burned down from the Sky toward For Knox.

Doctor Fate's magics had anticipated the catastrophe, and put them in harms way, between the Vault, America's economy, and the lives of all those below.

Alan Scott generated a shield of green against which the fire impacted.

"Go – I am assisting the Green Lantern's light." Fate told her.

Diana leapt skyward, she saw the beam of energy fall from high above, and hurtling outwards she followed it to the source.

Stunned she saw the beam from above was being reflected down to the Bullion Depositary building from the highly polished surface of one of the Foo Fighters she had sighted earlier. The true source of the amplified light was many miles distant. The curvature of the earth meant the strange flying disc hovered high above Kentucky to gain a line of sight to the origin of the energy beam. Diana removed her tiara, and hurled her metal disc at the glimmering Foo Fighter, the former Discus of Apollo cut open the fine alloy shell of the flying reflector, it pitched, and as it did so the beam of energy destroyed it's now imperfect surface.

Diana caught her tiara as it returned to her hand. Hunting the sky she searched for the other drone, but the second aerial disc was nowhere to be seen.

She looked across to the Metropolis Hills, to Barrow Ridge, the origin of the death ray. She now understood how the Metropolis suburb of Metrodale had been burned.

"Hera." She said to herself. "Superman is flying directly to where the Death Ray awaits."

-'S'-

The Bat Plane flew to Barrow Ridge, with Mercy at the controls and Robin alongside.

"Holy middle of nowhere." Robin said pointing to the cathode ray screen, a bright dot indicated the location of the car Bruce Wayne had driven away whilst under some form of mind control. It had taken weeks for the signal to emerge. Now they had located it, the dynamic duo had left Gotham for the Metropolis hills.

"Barrow Ridge, we're closer to the Golden Apple than Gotham." Mercy confirmed. "I'm going to bring us down in that clearing, it's as close to the signal as I get, without dropping in on top of it."

"When will he make contact?" Robin asked.

"When we land I guess."

"I don't think Bruce will like it much."

Mercy nodded, any other time Robin would be right, she just hoped they'd find Bruce was still himself enough to object. Hitting the switch that re-engaged the rotor mechanism, the plane shuddered as she pulled back into a stall, then as prop bit the air, a vertical hover. Dropping to the ground Mercy landed.

After crossing the woods between their landing site and the target, they caught sight of a number of cars parked in a rough gravel area, among them the big black sedan from Gotham. Aside from these and a single wooden shack there was nothing else but a perimeter fence enclosing the site on three sides, the fourth side was a vertical escarpment - Barrow Ridge itself. At the foot of the cliff, within the compound was unmistakable outline of a cave.

"At least he'll feel at home." Robin suggested.

Mercy said nothing, but scanned the area with a compact set of field glasses.

"If the car was parked in the cave – that might explain why we couldn't get an accurate location on the radio signal." She said finally.

Starman lowered himself beside them. His green cloak wrapped around him, his cowl had turned black, in this fashion he was camouflaged like them. "There is a metal door set well back into the cave itself."

"I saw that, it looks military grade." Mercy said folding and slipping the binoculars back into her belt.

"Can your dooda make like a key?" Robin asked.

"My Cosmic Rod makes a pretty good tin opener when push comes to shove."

Starman turned the futuristic device horizontal and it expanded into a glowing staff. "Take hold of the rod, both of you, and we'll levitate to the cave opening.

Robin, with youthful enthusiasm grabbed the strange mechanism with both hands. Mercy was somewhat more hesitant as she grasped hold.

She felt nothing but smooth alloy through her Wayne-tex gauntlets, as the advanced rubber compound increased the grip quotient of skin against a variety of surfaces by significant margins. A heart beat later the Starman carried them across the perimeter fence and into the cave. He then turned his Cosmic Gravity Rod into a fiery blade releasing bolts of stellar energy that cut through the steel barrier as it were made of wax.

Inside a terrified guard runs from the gaping hole in the metal, as Starman steps through, behind him the Gotham vigilantes skip into the shadows beyond.

Mercy could see the cave within had been little altered, save for electric lights that cut weakly through the gloom picking out a path into the mountain.

Starman had snatched the guard back to him as if the poor man were attached to his Cosmic Rod by an elastic rope. "Glad to see you've changed your mind you're staying with me. Now tell be about this secret Brotherhood of the Light, or is that Grotak Bund? Spill or I'll have to get rough."

"Don't burn me with that sword thing, I'll talk."

"Who's in charge here?"  
"Doctor Doog, you'd better not meddle with him."

"That's the same guy who was speaking in Gotham." Robin whispered.

The guard continued. "He has a machine that makes him the most powerful man in the world!"

"I bet he does." Starman said.

"Where are the captives?" Mercy demanded. "The men 'The Light' has kidnapped?"

"In the lower levels." He pointed to steps descending down into a dry sink hole.

"Then that's where we are going." She declared pushing the guard ahead of her.

-'S'-

Superman fresh from Kentucky and angry, crashed through the rock of Barrow Ridge. Like a super-human drill bit, he drove towards the hidden lair of 'The Light', clearing a way for himself through solid rock. Into the villainous scientist's laboratory crashes the Man of Tomorrow. He was aware much of the complex was shielded by lead – not surprising given 'The Light's extensive use of radium, but this lead interfered with Superman's x-ray like vision.

"Here's where I put out 'The Light'." He announced.

"Superman, I might have expected you would return prematurely."

"Bryson, whoever you are - give it up, I've broken your spell over me."

"Your bravado is as great as your optimism, do you think you are first to experience a relapse in your conditioning – can't you imagine that I haven't already anticipated this? Look this way." 'The Light' depressed a switch and a panel slid away to reveal an imprisoned Lois Lane. "Now consider the situation, beneath this my radiation suit, I have a concealed trigger which will detonate the explosive belt I have attached to Miss Lane's torso. For added security I have included a motion trigger, so excessive movement on her part, will also explode the bomb.

"Alternatively Superman you can save your friend by simply looking this way." The Light gestured around him. "Since entering my inner sanctum you triggered hidden Krypto-ray guns, which have been bombarding you with radiation. Even now, based on the readings I took during your previous exposure, I would expect you to be feeling the ill effects of the Meteor charged Light, Amplified by the Stimulated Emission of Radiation, courtesy of the Radium so graciously provided by Laurey Mines, care of MetC5.

"Of course you'll be wondering why I'm talking so much – chattering to you like some cliché pantomime villain?

"Well Superman the deep seated suggestion I placed in your mind during your last visit is even now reasserting itself, my voice is calling to you – reclaiming you as my loyal servant.

"Yes it is as easy as this – bombard you with the radiation that weakens you, and as you hear me speak, so your will to resist me dissipates. With each passing moment you are mine."

"Lois..." Superman gasped.

"I'm fine. I am a little pinched by this belt packed with nitroglycerine but otherwise I'm good to go."

Superman collapsed to his knee, as 'The Light' engaged his peculiar projector, bathing the Man of Steel in the Kaleidoscope of colours. "Of course a further treatment will only reinforce the conditioning."

"He... hasn't... mesmerised you?" Superman asked her. His voice full of pain and anguish.

"I... I don't think so." Got to be brave, Lois, she thought; don't let him know you're scared.

'The Light' cackled. "No Superman, I haven't conditioned Miss Lane, at least not yet – why? Well I need her conscious and aware.

"I need her emotional distress to be genuine, so you can hear her heart beat all the faster, smell her fear, know that if you act she will die fully aware of the horror that engulfs her."

-'S'-

Starman descended into the depths of the vertical shaft. He chuckled as Mercy and Robin let go of his Cosmic Rod, repelling down high tension lines they had attached to the future alloy from the next millennium. They slid down to next level of the lair, where a steel framed walkway had been constructed. There Mercy and Robin split up to investigate the various cells that held 'The Light's' Captives.

Starman alighted to the floor, there at base of the shaft was a long tunnel, newly carved, running away into the darkness, chained in a chair in this space was a bearded man that Ted Knight Ph.D, recognised as Professor Davis.

"Who are you?" Davis said. "Another of Doctor Doog's Prisoners."

"People call me Starman, I'm here to rescue you and the others the Brotherhood of the Light have kidnapped."

Davis thanked him as Starman cut his chains releasing him from the chair. "He is an evil genius – 'The Light' – no one has escaped his magic cavern."  
"Looks like I'm getting there."

"You don't understand my boy! It's so much worse than this." The older man moaned. "If you come to your senses, like I have done, 'The Light' just does it again to you, and again, and again, until you stay a slave, or go mad." The Professor grabbed hold of his arms wide eyed he said. "'The Light' - he brainwashes you, you see, to make you work for Doog, building his weapon, oh Nikolai..." Davis continued to murmur incoherently.

"Telsa?" Starman asked, holding the older man up on his feet. Davis nodded weakly.

Then from darkness emerged men moving forward with mechanical determination.

"Thought Robots." Davis screamed, but his shout was drowned out by the rat-a-tat-tat of Thompson machine guns.

Starman's Cosmic Rod deflected the slugs away from them, none came close.

"They are all good men, men of science and industry..." Davis said.

"I know." Starman expanded his Cosmic Gravity Rod, and while countering the hail of bullets he released a burst of stellar energy. First the guns became incredibly light yanking the men's arms high, cutting short their barrage. Pulling the weapons from their hands, because at the same time the fourteen men became very heavy. Gravity worked against them and they sank to the floor, unable to move as their mass increased. Using the technology of Tomorrow, Starman immobilised them, quickly each lapsed into unconsciousness.

"Don't worry Professor, they aren't dead, they'll be okay once they wake up."

"How did you do that?" Davis asked.

Starman simply smiled. "Where is the generator room?"

Davis was still in shock but he pointed along the long tunnel. "There at the end of that shaft, there is a vertical accelerator, that feeds the 'The Light''s working Death Ray – all the main controls for the generator are located there, these poor devils were charged with guarding it."

"Telsa's Death Ray works?" Starman demanded.

"It does now – how else did you think the Metrodale fire started?"

"That was Doog?"

Davis nodded. "And that was only at one tenth power – with this Death ray 'The Light' will conquer America."

-'S'-

Mercy and Robin searched for Bruce in the complex, breaking the captives free as they made there way through the cells. Finally there search bore fruit. Mercy could have cried with joy as Bruce Wayne recognised them, but she didn't of course – there wasn't the time.

"I'm glad the strange hypnotic trance has passed." She told him.

Quickly her husband shed his Italian suit and donned the costume Mercy had brought with her.

The Bat-Man was angry. "Thank God you got here." He said. "Much longer and 'The Light' would have exposed me to his full 'Thought Robot' treatment."

"Like you'd have let him do that." Robin chuckled as he joined them.

Bat-Man allowed a half smile to cross his lips.  
"You are sure you are okay?" Mercy asked.

"Yes, the initial exposure is just temporary. It's like the compulsion the Vampire Red Monks use, it passes once the task is completed – in my case I was compelled to this location, but the second treatment is something else. It's deeper - more complete, goes beyond hypnosis - it makes you do things against your own conscience, some break free after a while, those that don't go mad." He clicked his utility belt into place. "Okay lets move."

-'S'-

Lois dare not move, she ached from standing still, but she was all too aware of the explosives strapped to her body. She watched as Superman knelt on the floor falling forward he crawled, his face anguished, tired drained of strength. The beams of coloured light washed over him. 'The Light' continued to speak, his voice echoed in Lois mind, she wanted to scream.

Then from other side of the room three caped crusaders burst into 'The Light's laboratory.

Lane recognised the black and grey clad vigilante, it could only be the legendary Bat-Man of Gotham, with him were two dark cloaked youths, or so it seemed. The taller was draped in Midnight blue, the smaller wore Lincoln green. She had heard of the reputed boy-wonder who appeared at the Bat-Man's side, but she had not known that there were two such side-kicks running with the Dark Knight.

'The Light' turned on them. "So Gotham's Bat-Man has found me, how delicious."

"You made the mistake of coming to my city Doctor Doog." The Bat-Man growled.

He leapt at the hooded and visored figure in the white enveloping robes, leaping over Superman and driving 'The Light' to the ground.

"Bat-Man he is radioactive." Lois said as loudly as she dared.

Shaking free of his hood Doctor Doog revealed himself, and with surprising strength, pushed back to his feet.

"Don't let him touch you with his bare hands – his touch kills, I've seen it." She told the Dark Knight.

Doog cast off his gloves, revealing his pale blotchy hands.

Lois watched as the Bat-Man avoided Doog's fingers as the mad scientist lunged at the Bat-Man's exposed mouth and chin. The Dark Knight countered, throwing the heavy set villainous scientist across his shoulder in a fluid and controlled motion.

Doog fell towards the taller youth who kicked Doctor Doog, a powerful swinging blow, across the room, revealing her taught athletic and very feminine form under the Midnight cloak. Simultaneously the Batman threw something dark and metal at the control panel of the evil Doctors machine. Lois saw the bat shaped throwing weapon wedge itself into the switch gear and sparks followed and the rays of coloured light died. "One device down, two to go." The Batman said.

He then took a wired device from his belt. Speaking into it saying. "Starman - I need you disable the main power to the lab – over?"

Moments later the main lights in the lab died. Emergency lights clicked on in their place, the room seemed whiter again, even though less bright. Lois realised the Krypto-ray gun's odd radiations had been ended.

Only then did Lois see the trio remove the dark lenses that covered their eyes, these slid into the brow of their masks. "Two down." The Dark Knight said.

"Just Miss Lane now." Robin observed.

"That would be good." Lois agreed with a forced smile.

"I should have worn my glasses to the Brotherhood of the Light." Bat-Man told Mercy and Robin as he walked over to her. Lois didn't understand exactly what he meant, but she guessed enough to conclude that the dark lenses the Caped Crusaders wore worked like those of 'The Light' and his henchman. Protecting them against their own weapons nefarious effects.

"Robin, watch Doog." The Bat-Man ordered. "Mercy – tend to Superman."

"Superman can you stand?" Mercy asked the fallen Man of Steel. He nodded, and she helped him to his feet.

Lois stared at the tired weakened figure, no longer the Metropolis Marvel, she was faced with the truth. At last she believed the incredible.

Doog slowly rose, pushing himself up against the wall of the lab. Shaking himself from his temporary stupor, coughing, holding his generous gut where Mercy had landed her powerful kick.

"I still have my Thought Robot army." He said stepping forward.

Bat-Man tapped his cowl. "No you don't – Starman has radioed me, he has incapacitated them, and with Professor Davis Starman is disarming your Death Ray machine. Face it – it's over for you Doog."

'The Light' laughed. "I wasn't talking about them – I meant him." Pointing to Superman, he stepped away from the wall.

Robin launched from his belt a lasso, the rope fell around 'The Light''s face and neck. Doog coughed as the line went tight distorting his face and grey locks.

"Like to see you try and order people around now." The Boy-Wonder said.

Lois felt like cheering.

Then Doog growled, and she saw to her horror his skin was slipping away from his face, the mask – for that is what it was, tore, the grey wig fell from his head, as 'The Light' wrenched himself free from Robin's rope; a horrid sight was revealed. Lois shuddered in surprise.

Bat-Man dropped to her side.

Mercy stood between them. Superman finally stood tall, perspiration evident on his brow.

The man before them was thick set, round headed and with heavy jowls, his bald head and pale face were crossed a myriad of purple veins, and there was redness in his eyes. He roared ripping the radiation suit apart, casting the heavy smock aside, revealing his bare chest, his mottled purpled red veined flesh. He was more monster than man. His intent obvious, his skin was poison.

Even so she recognised him.

"Luthor." Superman said.

"How can it be him?" Lois gasped, remembering the young red headed scientist she had first met at Metropolis field.

"I'm not sure it is the same Luthor – not the man we met. A living copy – a clone." Superman said.

"Great." She heard the Bat-Man say.

Luthor laughed not confirming or denying Superman's conclusion.

"Hold still Miss Lane." The Bat-Man whispered as he knelt beside her. "I am going have to disarm this bomb, and quickly."

Luthor reached for his belt. "Time to say goodbye Miss Lane."

Superman caught him with a sudden burst of speed, he prevented Luthor from hitting the switch he carried at his waist, grabbing the evil scientist's wrists. The radiations from Luthor's poisoned flesh seeped into the weakened Man of Tomorrow, and his hands began blister and burn as he held Luthor back.

"Time for the truth." Luthor hissed.

"Stay away from him." Superman told Mercy and Robin. "Don't worry about me. My strength is returning."

"Yes it is Superman." Luthor spat. "I know that as soon as the Krypto-ray guns were deactivated you would recover."

"Then stop struggling before I hurt you." Superman growled back.

"But Superman you are forgetting something - your conditioning is still in place." Luthor laughed. "Thought Robot." He said simply.

Lois looked across the caped crusader's head, past the dagger like ears on the cowl, the Bat-Man worked with the wires on her belt quickly using tools from his own. Lois shivered cold with fear as Superman's face had lost it's animated quality, his eyes their life.

"Thought Robot – Kill Lois Lane, Kill them all!"

-'S'-

Starman worked with Davis, he used his Cosmic Rod to measure the power and scale of the generators, trace the circuits and work out the system of controls. When Batman asked him to the kill the power to the labs, that was easy enough, he just cut the feed to the upper complex as a whole, but the Death ray itself was another matter.

The five storey vertical shaft housed a steel tube housed within magnetic coils, this fed into a gun mounted at the pinnacle of Barrow Ridge. In the basement huge generators were spinning wildly and he and Davis stood before the large control desk attempting to shut the weapon down.

"I don't understand it." Davis said. "We're locked out, it's like – oh no, it can't be..."

Starman caught sight of the bearded man making a break from the shadows, grabbing him with a burst of stellar energy from his Cosmic Rod, he pulled the fleeing figure towards them.

"That's Rolph Zimba." Davis exclaimed. "He's the head of Grotak Bund. 'The Light's right hand man – his contact with Berlin."

"What have you done?" Starman demanded. "Why can't we shut the generators down?"

Zimba laughed. "You can't do anything now. Once the process has begun, the weapon _will_ fire, if you try to stop it there will be an explosion, one I am told on the scale of Krakatoa Volcano."

"What – Why?"

Zimba shrugged. "I heard the gunshots so I entered a target. Such are my standing orders American." The bearded man smiled enjoying his pyrrhic victory. "When 'The Light's Thought Robots stopped shooting so quickly, I made ready – and when I heard you coming I imitated the sequence." He turned to the Professor. "Maximum power. Again my Standing Orders."

"What is the target." Davis demanded, his face ashen.

"What else, but a certain building in down town Metropolis."

"Maximum power, Metropolis - by God thousands could die." Davis said. " Maximum power will make the Metrodale fire seem tiny."

"Which building?" Starman asked.

"Yeah... it's just like I promised them, it's the Daily Star."

-'S'-

Luthor's laughter echoed around the room. The Bat-Man rolled away from Lois as Superman lurched at her throat. She felt the bomb belt drop from her waist. The Bat-Man launched a powerful kick at the Man of Steel, but he fell back as if he had tried fell a girder.

Superman's hands wrapped mechanically around her throat.

"Superman! Please – it's me, it's Lois." She gasped, something flickered in his eyes.

"Kal-El." A female voice shouted. Lois saw Wonder Woman appear falling from the same hole Superman had created to reach the lab.

"Superman – Kal-El." Wonder Woman, took hold of his shoulder.

Lois saw his eyes flicker – a moment of recognition.

"Are you going to take him down Diana?" The Bat-Man asked.

Wonder Woman shook her head. "I dare not attack him. His hands are stronger than a vice, he must let go of this woman, or he will snap her neck like a dry twig."

"Kal Please."

Lois looked into his eyes. "Clark let me go." She whispered.

Superman's forehead creased, and then he relaxed.

He let her go, as she fell weeping against him.

Slowly he became human once more.

"Oh Lois, I'm so sorry... I could have..."

"But you didn't." She caressed his face.

"How touching." Luthor cackled, and then he ran at them both, his killing hands extended.

Diana caught him in her Lasso, he tumbled to the floor, twisting and shaking as the god-forged lariat's power of truth burned through him, his face twisted and changed before their eyes, another mask fell away, this one of flesh, as the muscles realigned revealing the true chameleon beneath."

"It is neither Man nor Typhon, but some strange combination of both." Diana stated.

"Holy Doctor Moreau!" Robin exclaimed.

"Luthor's body combined with an Annunki's into a chimera – a chameleon." Superman gasped.

"A shape-shifter." Wonder Woman said. "And this one has not long to live."

"Are you sure?" The Bat-Man asked.

"The truth of his condition is clear to me, he is dying from radiation poisoning – look even now he is unconscious - truthfully he has spent himself fighting Superman, exhausting himself to the point of death. "

The Flash appeared from no where. "People. We have a problem. 'The Light's Death Ray is about to fire." The Scarlet n' Blue Speedster quickly brought them up to speed. "Starman has a plan, but he can't stop the Weapon discharging, he can stop it, but it's going to fire."

"What's the target?" The Bat-Man asked.

The Flash responded. "The Daily Star."

"No!" Superman said.

Lois blinked and the Man of Tomorrow vanished.

"Where has he gone." Robin asked.

"Metropolis, I guess." The Flash told them.

Mercy said. "But he's only just recovered."

"We hope." The Bat-Man added. His tone grave.

"Superman won't let his friends down Bat-Man." Lois said firmly. "He never does."

"And where has Wonder Woman gone?" Robin look around him again, Diana too had left the room.

The Bat-Man folded his arms. "She's the only one of us who can keep up with Superman."Turning to the Flash, he added. "In the sky at least. I assume the Green Lantern is assisting Starman."

The Flash nodded, checking his watch. "Well they've only seconds now to go before..."

The noise was a deep pitched hum, but it vibrated through Barrow Ridge, and the lab were they stood.

"And that'll be the Death Ray." The Flash observed.

-'S'-

Superman tore across the Metropolis skyline, his every muscle burned, his bones ached, but he could not fail. Arriving above the great Star sign, he saw the otherwise invisible L.A.S.E.R beam fall from above, his preternatural vision able to discern it's path and the Metropolis Marvel flew to meet it.

-'S'-

Diana's plane hurtled invisibly into the stratosphere, her hunters eye searched for the Foo-Fighter, the reflective drone that Luthor's Death Ray needed to function. She sighted with her hunters eye the almost invisible mercurial object, the beam of hot light reflected from it, down towards the Daily Star, she could only hope Superman was strong enough to resist it. She flew her plane upside down, she caught sight of a new sun, as the air around Superman burned. The Metropolis Marvel intercepted the L.A.S.E.R with his highly durable body, becoming the target rather than the tons of concrete and steel that was the Daily Star's Office and print building. There were now two subs in the sky above Metropolis.

Diana aimed her plane at the Foo-Fighter, the invisible aerofoils slicing through the Annunki flying-disc derived drone, the magical wings were as a sword through tin. The Death Ray no longer reflecting downwards burned past her out into space.

-'S'-

Starman had aimed his Cosmic Rod at the Death Ray's great vertical accelerator, he gradually increased it's mass while the Green Lantern contained it within the eerie green energy from his Power Ring. Doctor Fate wove a spell of insubstantiality and the whole assembly – gun and all, began to slide through the rock. The three champions of Justice worked at the limit of their powers sending the terrible weapon deep into the hot radiative core of the Earth and complete oblivion.

-'S'-

Superman fell from the sky, he felt different, free, recharged. He smiled to himself the irony of the Luthor-Annunki Death Ray was simple; it amplified light, and he lived on light, his solar batteries recharged he felt a new man. Soaring upwards he returned to Barrow Ridge.

-'S'-

Standing over the corpse of the deceased chimera chameleon shape-shifter Superman reflected on the last year's strange events. "A fitting fate, for you." He said of the Luthor Clone.

"What now?" Lois asked him.

"You're coming back with me." He replied.

"But Superman, Clark, I mean – I don't know what I mean." Lois shook her head.

"How long have you known?" He asked softly

"Honestly?" She said. "I guess I first suspected, after the Barnett Winston Comet, when you – when Clark changed so much. Still – Superman - it was a too big a leap.

"And then, just now, when I saw you weak – sick again, I recognised you, not Clark Kent Reporter, nor Superman Man of Steel, but the same guy I nursed, the man I made chicken soup for."

"Jimmy bought that didn't he?"  
"Shut up, you know what I mean." Lois said as she relaxed into his arms.

"And I get it you now, you know – I mean if people knew you were Clark Kent we'd all be in danger." She said as they took the air. "Just as 'The Light' used me to tip you over into a 'Thought Robot'.

"I even understand why you acted so yellow all the time. To hide who you were." The Metropolis Hills receded beneath them.

"But what I need to know Clark, Superman." Lois paused. "Kal-El?"

She wondered about the name Wonder Woman had used. The name Diana called Superman.

"My birth name."

That didn't make her feel any better, but she put those thoughts aside. "Well Cowboy, what I want to know is your – er – affection for me a pretence too?"

"That was the genuine article Lois." Superman told her.

She sniffed. "Men.

"You were foolish not to let me in on your secret." She said after a long silence.

"You _should_ have known – well okay, not straight away - but soon, that you _could_ trust me. I might have even been able to help you - instead of stumbling around in the dark."

"I guess 'The Light' proved to be enlightening after all."

"Ha-ha. So what do you mean by that?"

"I mean there are times when you knowing the truth would have helped." He admitted.

"Then it's settled." Lois said as they descended down to the Roof of the Star. "We're really Partners now, not just Reporting, but in whole thing – everything you do."

"Okay Lois – I get it. Partners."

1941 Epilogue -

"Hey Kent!"

"What is it Jake." Kent put down the picture of the newly completed Mount Rushmore.

"I've got a doozy of a story for ya' if you like tall tales."

"You know I do."

"Well there is a bunch of folks just come in from a dunking in the Atlantic, they were torpedoed by a U-boat." Jake began.

"Well that's a terrible thing, but there's a lot of that going on."

"Yeah I know tell it to them guys on the USS Reuben James." Jake agreed, saying. "Well the difference is these folks reckon they were saved by an aquatic-superman, some kind of Wonder Merman, all decked out in green and gold, sounded your kind of thing."

"Sure sounds like it Jake – cheers." Kent took the address from the Star's News Desk.

He got his coat and hat. Stopping by Lanes desk he said. "Hey Lois want to come with me? Jake's given me a tip."

Lois looked up at him. Her violet eyes were bright, the kind of look he knew all too well.

"Oh come on Lois – what's wrong now, what have I done?"

"I've been sitting here writing up a story – the one where I nearly died. Thing is I know the Chief won't even print it.

"And it's okay I get that, y'know - for reasons of National Security, and all that." She sighed.

"Still one day Lois.."

"Yeah posterity, put in my memoirs, but the thing is I was just thinking how long you must have been secretly laughing at me."

"What do you mean?" Clark tipped his hat back, and pushed his specks home using his middle finger.

"You know Kent. About _it_ – that thing we can't talk about. _That_. Clark I don't like been laughed at."

"What about the things we talked about - you know about being partners, properly?"

Lois lent forward, and whispered. "Clark I _will_ assist you, but only for the good of humanity."

"I don't..."

"It's simple Kent." Lois declared. "We're starting again Clark. Look you lied to me, okay for the best of reasons – I get that, but it doesn't change it, and now I have to learn to trust you all over again."

"Will you?"

"Frankly, Cowboy I don't know."

Clark sighed pulled on his coat and left into the cold December air.

Lois wiped a tear from her eye, and turned to see Jake his face a ghostly white as he stood by the Teletype machine.

"They've attacked Pearl Harbour." He said. "The Japanese have attacked American soil."

_-*- Author's Note -*-_

Never big on commentary to this the ongoing saga, but since this is such a crucial point in the story, I thought I'd say something, break that fourth wall kind of.

I should say that the revelation between Lois and Clark is the second key part of the "K-Metal from Krypton", the unpublished story ( late 1940 ) by Siegel for 1941. ( would have been in Superman #8 ) I dealt with K-Metal ie Kryptonite concept a few chapters back.

The Character of Mercy is my own invention – however the idea is inspired by Detective Comics #49.

In this story Julie becomes an actress, given the stage name of Portia Storme - it's also Julie Madison's last Golden Age appearance – crucially in this issue she dresses up in a Robin Costume ( the first female Robin ever ) and does hero stuff, which I think is good enough reason to give her a Caped Crusader ID of her own.

Mercy further comes from Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice character Portia, as does Julies stage name at least according to Detective Comics #49, and it is Shakespeare's Portia who delivers one of the most famous speeches in **The Merchant of Venice**:

"_The quality of mercy is not strain'd._ _It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven_ _Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:_ _It blesseth him that gives and him that takes."_

She also kicks ass for a female character from the Elizabethan age.

'The Light' is an Amalgam character, mainly from Superman #13's 'The Light' and Dr Doog from Adventure Comics #61 ( Starman ) Also 'The Light' ( unrelated bar the mad scientist thang ) appears in Adventure Comics #62 ( Starman ) but I decided a while back for the purposes of this story it was easier to think of all bald mad scientists as Luthor in one shape of form.

The Kidnapping of leading people comes from both Superman #13 & Action #42 – where we have a Death ray, another common trope of this period.

Brett Bryson radioactive touch of death courtesy of Radium from Chalmers Chemicals comes from Action #39

Rolph Zimba and Grotak Bund, also the Metrodale disaster comes from Superman #11 – the theme of sabotage and fifth columnists is an important one in a number of stories from this year. The general theme of hypnosis / mesmerism is seen in many comic stories from 41. Too many to list really, the 'Thought Robots' and Demon-Eyed bandits are from Adventure Comics #64 (Starman )

Doris Lee was Starman's girl, it just so happened another blonde Doris, Doris Laurey appeared in Action #34 and combing the two seemed a good idea.

Obviously I've tried to reference some key events in history, including Hitler's invasion of the Soviet Union, the Atlantic Charter, and the Attack on Pearl Harbour.

Onwards and upwards to 1942. Okay that maybe be should be downwards... Dive! Dive!


	63. Chapter 63

1942 part 1

The distant future past, in a galaxy far away removed by time, but not space - spins a planet now called by it's inhabitants Malthus. Named after an ancient prophet who forewarned of this terrible age now come. Stained brown by pollution encircled by a ring of orbiting junk from centuries of artificial satellites, beyond this a single natural moon. Matlhus orbits an ageing dwarf yellow star, this third planet, this island of life teams with human beings, so many many people crowded together in their billions, that they know no solitude, they know no peace.

From their numbers brave souls venture out into the cold wastes of space. In time experimental engines send them faster and further, always limited by the universal constant; the speed of light, as their science desperately seeks to circumvent the rules of their universe, only to court disaster and accident.

It is by accident that the first adventurers break the laws of space and time, and are flung far into the distant past, to when their galaxy was young and new. It is these descendants of Malthus, genetically changed by synthetic evolution who find themselves enveloped by an ancient cosmological phenomenon. Magic enters the Universe through the god-wave event.

From among these travellers arise the gods of many worlds, beings who embrace the magics of this primeval age. Yet there are others who see this absolute godly power as corrupting.

These few resolve to bring order to the universe. Together they begin to contain this raw magic, preventing it's spread. They call themselves the Guardians and from their base at the Galaxy's starry heart called Oa.

The Guardians of the Universe take hold of the primal magic unleashed by the god-wave event. From Oa their legions seize and constrain it within the heart of seven chosen Stars. Each colour of the spectrum matched to a primal power. There in the midst of a nuclear furnace, under immense heat and pressure, in a forge and upon an anvil of stellar proportions, these magics are individually bound. Here in the heart of each star the magics sleep. Ages pass and these magics stir, aeons later and the magics begin to dream, and then they finally awaken – becoming self aware, sentient, thinking. One imprisoned magic grows angry, and this sentient magical power promises to itself, makes and remakes a vow, a plan for its freedom.

Aeons pass and the world the Oa's distant ancestors once called home teams again with life, until disaster brings death, a pattern repeated, as over millions of years with catastrophe comes mass extinction, until finally events conspire so that mankind arises on planet Earth.

-'S'-

A group of men sit discussing the way of the world in this the year 1942. They gather in the apartment of Gio Zatarra, a former stage magician, now a FBI Special Agent attached to Alsos, a secret Allied organisation charged with countering the Nazi's wonder weapons program.

Clark Kent reporter for a major metropolitan Newspaper sat beside the door, the mask worn by Superman, and beside him was Ted Knight, Physicist and a lead Researcher at S.T.A.R Labs – otherwise called Starman. Across on the couch was Alan Scott, Engineer, recently drafted into the Army Engineering Corps, sitting with Carter Hall, archaeologist who was in another life Prince Khufu of Egypt and known to them as Hawkman.

Clark watched as Scott toyed with the green metal ring that empowers him as the Mystery Man called the Green Lantern, giving shape and form to his thoughts in vibrant green energy. Gio invited Alan to tell them how he had received this ring.

"In ancient China, moments ago in cosmological time, but at the very dawn of recorded human history a meteor falls, bursting from it a flaming liquid metal, that incredibly spoke a message. '_Three times shall I flame, first to bring death, second to bring life, third to bring power_.'

"That's the vision I received when I found the Lantern." Alan explains holding up his finger. "That's the larger lamp or perhaps I could describe it as a battery, that charges this."

Clark was reminded that the Green Lantern had said previously he needed to recharge his power ring.

"That message – death, life, power, it kind of reminds me of the story of the Genie of the bottle." He commented, reminded of a movie he had seen with Lois Lane just over a year before.

"Can I refresh your glass?" Gio Zatara asked offering him another measure of scotch. "What were you thinking?"  
"Just the business of the vow, the curse – the genie says something along the lines of, that during the first thousand years imprisoned he vowed to serve whomever freed him, then after a millennia he grew angrier and swore to enrich his freer, but no more to serve as a slave, and by the start of the third he was so angry he vowed to kill whoever freed him."

"When you study myth and legend you find certain common themes run through them all." Carter Hall agreed. "Go on Alan – what else did you learn in this vision?"

Scott tells his colleagues in the Justice Society how a lantern was forged from the metal, once in China bringing death. Then centuries later in America a madman was made sane, but only after refashioning the then ancient Chinese Lantern into a turn of century Railway style lamp, the lantern that Alan had found.

"When I touched the Lantern the third promise of that prophecy came true." Scott said. "That's how the Green Lantern came to be, it seemed only right I should use my new found abilities to help my fellow man."

"That's interesting Alan." Gio Zatara acknowledged. "But like Clark I am reminded of another story – a myth, one I heard as a child."

"Do tell." Carter Hall said.

"Wait." Ted Knight interrupted. "I appreciate the sharing of confidences – we are all joined in common purpose here, especially since the President promoted our society to the Justice Battalion, but Gio I thought you asked us all to meet here because you had more information regarding the Death Ray 'The Light' constructed?

"Because if another can be built – or worse already exists, then..."

"Quite." Zatara agreed. "And of course Ted, you're a scientist, and I appreciate magic doesn't perhaps sit comfortably with you, but please just bare with me a moment." Gio went on to say. "The myth I speak of is very similar to Alan's vision. In the distant past a meteorite falls, but on this occasion it shatters in countless shards, and the metallic rock is not green, but red, and it falls not into ancient China, but onto the lost continent of Atlantis."

"Atlantis?" Ted Knight remarked with surprise.

Clark immediately wished Diana was here. Her knowledge of things ancient and magic, was almost first hand.

Carter Hall nodded. "I recall something of this, it was a story told in the time of Khufu, of the Blood Stones from the lost land, said by the Priests to be the hardened blood of the god Osiris, they granted great power to whomever possessed them."

Then again Clark reflected. Carter Hall's memories of many lives were almost equal to the Amazon's unbroken three thousand year history. Still he had come to rely on Diana's honesty regarding magic and magical beings.

"And Atlantis is where my kind come from." Zatara stated.

"And here I thought it was Italy." Clark said with a smile. "But I guess Gio you're really talking about magic users."

"I think you're getting it." Gio agreed.

"Wait." Ted Knight said. "I don't see the connection. Magic Jewels – Death ray.

"Unless the jewel robberies were more than they seemed, say they were really after these magic power stones you're talking about... and if so then that's why 'The Light's' Demon-Eyed Bandits hit the Governor's reception for Prince Ahmed of Arabia, targeting his 'fire-stone'?" Knight suggested.

"Exactly." Gio agreed. "Although that gem was really a splendid ruby, it's history suggested it _might_ be something more, and that was all the incentive 'The Light' or Doc Croc, as I call him, needed to order its theft."

Clark nodded. "And I'm guessing it's no coincidence that For Knox has been receiving valuables for safe keeping from around the world in the last few months, including the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom, and other nations – among these I'm guessing are other potential power stones."

Gio agreed. "Of course you're right Clark. When Atlantis sank beneath the waves, those who escaped the disaster were scattered across the globe, and with them came their knowledge of science and magic, but also a number of power stones. It make sense to imagine these rare gems ending up in the hands of Kings and nations."

"So Lizard Luthor was after more than the gold! He was using me to try and get hold of more power stones." Clark shook his head slowly in anger.

"I'm sure wrecking the nations economy was also important to his Nazi masters." Gio acknowledged. "However I've come to believe the power stones were in fact his primary objective."

Alan Scott said. "Okay I see there is some similarity between the story of Lantern's meteor metal, and the Blood Stones myth – but what is the connection between the power stones and the death ray, I mean why did 'the Light' that is Doc Croc want them?"

"That's a good question, until now I assumed the gems were being stolen simply to finance 'The Light's operation." Clark said.

"True, they'd have done that." Ted agreed adding. "But also perhaps they might be used to create a perfect lens."

Clark saw where the Physicist was coming from.

"That was also my conclusion." Doctor Fate said as he appeared into the room. "Sorry I am late Gentleman."

"Not at all." Gio said. "As ever Kent your timing is impeccable."

Kent Nelson removed the Helmet of Nabu, and his mystical golden cloak dissipated as he returned from his blue costume to his lounge suit. "At Gio's suggestion I have been searching the mystic realms for answers, and in the Death Ray I see the finger print of a power stone. I believe 'The Light' used such a stone as Ted suggests as the lens to amplify the light energy into a the death ray."

Ted Knight observed. "Then the good news is that simply building the machine isn't enough, to make this death ray work the Nazi's need a power stone – which I gather are very rare?"

"Absolutely." Gio stated. "I know of only one."

"If I'm right." Clark began. "I recall your friend - Sargon the Sorcerer, as his stage name goes." Clark continued. "He has a large red stone, a ruby which he told Superman granted him real magic powers."  
Gio agreed. "Correct. Although not everyone can use a power stone as Sargon can, it is a bond that must begin in the womb, that said 'The Light' clearly discovered a deadly use for this star metal."

Ted Knight said to them. "And we can assume the Nazi's will continue to seek power stones?"

"Sure." Kent Nelson confirmed. The man called Fate continued. "As they seize all manner of religious and symbolic objects seeking weapons of magical domination, however there remains one place where they are sure to find more of these stones."

"Where?" Ted asked.

"Why Atlantis of course."

"Atlantis – the sunken continent?"

"The same." Gio Zatara confirmed. "The Nazi's have the edge on us when it comes to submarine technology. If they can locate any of the lost cities, and win their trust, they will have a distinct advantage."

"Win their trust." Ted repeated. "That means they continue to exist – that is you are implying Atlantean culture continues to exist."

Clark said. "Ted I'd too would have baulked at the notion, but after encountering the Anunnki in their underground cities, effectively the mythological hollow earth, visiting the lost realms of Themyscira and the Necropolis, I'm a little more open to the idea of hidden civilisations."

Zatara chuckled. "Actually Clark you've almost encountered one of the Atlanteans – well in a manner of speaking."  
"What do you mean Gio?"

His friend passed Clark a folded copy of the Daily Star.

"This story?" Clark laughed. "You can't be serious." He past the paper to Ted. "It's buried on the bottom of the page."

"Sailor claims to have sighted Mermaid." Knight read aloud with a chuckle.

"My Editor's idea of a joke." Clark told them. "I missed covering the Mayor's resignation because I was busy elsewhere at the time, you guys know how that goes, any way so I get sent to interview this old fella with the tall fishy tail. That said if it hadn't have been for the spate of Aquatic-superman stories I don't think Taylor would have given my article room in the paper."

Superman had yet to encounter this saviour from the deep, but given two thirds of the Earth's Surface was water it wasn't surprising. The stories from survivors were convincing enough, and the description of his gold and green costume consistent, as was the fact he had two legs and no tail.

Kent Nelson leant forward. "Merfolk do exist Clark. It is said in the Akashic Records that among the cities of Atlantis one survived the deluge when it's people became mermen and mermaids, aquatic-shape-shifters, if you will, as the legends go, they can walk on land but have tails in water. Indeed shape shifting is a mark of Atlantean heritage, such notable Homo Magi as Merlin of Camelot possessed the ability."

"In short Clark this could be one of these people seeking to make contact." Gio said. "Which would be a first." Zatara added.

"And we don't like coincidences." Clark said.

Gio nodded. "We have Doc Croc working with the Nazi's, using Atlantean Blood Stones, and shortly afterwards the sighting of a Atlantean mermaid in modern times. Yeah I don't like it much."

Clark stood up. "Sorry Gentlemen but I have to be somewhere else."

"The Luthor execution." Alan Scott noted checking his watch.

"It's surprising 'The Light' hung on long enough to make it to the chair." Ted Knight remarked, but Clark was already gone.

-'S'-

Lois checked her watch. Clark was cutting it fine as usual, at least now she knew why that was, and why she should still expect him to appear even at the last moment. The revelation that Clark and Superman were one in the same had rocked her world, and for that reason she had kept there relationship professional, despite feeling differently, she had stuck to her second thoughts. Let her head rule her heart. In truth she felt embarrassed about some of her more outlandish stunts she had pulled to try and get the Man of Steel's attention, and that was doubly true now she realised in most cases he had been stood right beside her the whole time.

Clark tugged her elbow as he sidled into place.

"I didn't think he'd live to stand trial, never mind last until now." She whispered.

"True. Ted was saying the same thing as I left."

"Who'd have thought 'The Light' was this guy." Another reporter quipped.

"Yeah." Said his colleague. "What is this Alexander Luthor guy supposed to be, barely in his twenties, he looks twice that."

"More like sixty. They say he has some odd wasting condition, but then again he did drop of the earth after the Flame Bird débâcle at Metropolis field."

"Yeah I heard it was radium poisoning."

"That'll be why he lost his hair I guess."

"Seems kinda strange that people who should have know better were calling him a messiah, now in the new year he's a proven murderer, a hoodlum."

"Shh here he comes." Whispered a voice to her right.  
Lois saw the hands of the clock indicate that the fateful hour fast approaches, as into the room a weak and gaunt figure of an preternaturally aged Lex Luthor staggers into the room, pulling free of his guards he snaps. "Let go of me. I can walk alone."

Lois thought that for the first time since the revelations below Barrow Ridge, 'the Light' looked less than human. He had surprised her, not only by living, but by being so cooperative with his prosecution, the Metropolis PD had their murderer and jewel thief, and he seemed to want to die. Well she reflected this inhuman being was going to get his wish.

She notes the gloved hands of the prison officers, certain aspects of 'The Light's' abilities had been kept from both the press and the jury at trial, such as his killer touch and of course the equally remarkable hybrid reptilian nature of this clone. There had been enough to convict him on the basis of the often lethal robberies across Metropolis, and privately the Authorities were all too glad to close that case. Lois guessed they too had expected the creature to expire before today. Now they were obliged to see him executed. She suspected his body would be whisked away to some secret government laboratory once the deed was done.

Diligently the steady hands of the Prison guards deliberately fastened the frail villain to the stark chair, strapping his arms and legs down.

"Any last words?" The Warden asks.

"Just this." Luthor hisses. "Superman is responsible for my being here, and electric chair, or no electric chair I'll live to get even with him."

"The guys cracked." A voice says in a loud whisper from the assembled reporters. Lois had to agree with that sentiment. She could feel the tension mount in the room, the moment was almost here.

The Executioner acts at the clock's mark, and the hour hand is met by the minute marker he throws the switch, and thousands of volts discharge into the prisoner, the lights dim. Luthor's body tenses as the powerful force charges through him. But a strange and incredible thing occurs, instead going into a spasm, and twitching to sudden death, Luthor's figure straightens with unexpected energy and vigour, and his arms break the leather bonds like paper releasing him from the chair. A deep red glow emanates from his chest luminous threw the prison greys.

"You fools – you poor stupid fools." He bellows. "That great charge of electricity was just what I needed to restore my incredible strength! You've freed me and now there is nothing that can stop me. Nothing!"

The Warden shouts vainly for his guards, who are swept aside by a dismissive swipe from the strangely energised fiend.

"You wanted to give me the Electric Chair – but here's where you get it Warden." Luthor said as he tore the heavy metal frame from the floor, snapping the bolts with superhuman ease.

"Clark!" Lois gasps as she sees Kent surging forward, before falling convincingly into the path of the heavy chair.

How often she remembered Clark had fooled her with his consummate acting, playing the clumsy oaf, his valour appearing to me more accident than design, but Lois now knew the truth. Clark tumbled forward, allowing himself to be carried to the Warden, protecting him from the force of Luthor's attack. In that same instant the fiendish scientist seizes his freedom by smashing through the wall as a wrecking ball before leaping to freedom. The noise and dust helping mask her partners actions, diverting the attention of the Press pack to Luthor's impossible escape.

As the fog clears Clark struggles to his feet with the apparent help of the startled Warden.

"You should have been killed." The older man remarks. Lois steps to them.

"I'm just a little dizzy, stunned I guess." Clark replies.

"You're a very lucky young man, hell we both could have been killed, that chair weighs over two hundred pounds at least."

"I guess we got lucky." Clark said while holding his head in one hand, play acting his role.

"I'll take it from here." Lois told the Warden.

"He needs medical attention I'd wager." The prison's chief officer said.

Lois agreed. "Of course. I'll take him to Metropolis General and get a Doctor look him over."

"That's a good idea, concussion can be sneaky." The Warden replied, evidently still very shaken himself.

"Thanks Lois." Clark said as Lane play acted supporting him, and the two reporters quickly left the scene. Out of sight Clark straightened his stance. "Call this into the Office partner, I'm going to look for a Luthor."

-'S'-

Diana Prince stood with Steve Trevor, Colonel Darnell and the Commandant, USNOB Bermuda Jules James. Darnell and James were old friends from the Commandant's time with Naval Intelligence as Assistant and Acting Director, up and until taking his new post in Bermuda. The island occupied a strategically important position, commanding sea and air approaches to the Middle Atlantic coastline. Here on Ordnance Island a small reclaimed piece of land just shy of two acres in the Georgetown Harbour the US had constructed Submarine Facilities since moving to the island the previous year.

"Commandant this my aide Captain Steve Trevor, and our secretary Lieutenant Prince."

"Enchanted I'm sure." James addressed Diana. Then shook Steve's hand. "Heard you ran into trouble out here in a P-38 Lightening prototype?"

"Yeah something like that." Trevor replied. "But that's test pilot work for you."

"I can see why you decided to take a safer posting eh?" James 's jibe was followed by a wry smile. Both men knew the reality of espionage.

"Phil, I'd like you to meet the guys who have been working on this project." James began and directed Darnell to where a group of men stood in conference.

"Gentlemen this is our colleague from Army Intelligence, Colonel Darnell is here to watch our project with a view for cross agency cooperation." James continued. "Philip this Bob Crane and his colleague Chuck Grayson, they've been working on the autonomous systems for the submarine which allows her to run safely with fewer crew, and this young fellow is Terrence Sloane."

"I've heard of Mister Sloane." Darnell said shaking the younger man's hand. "Graduated from College at thirteen, by twenty you'd something like a dozen degrees in as many subjects, and a raft of patents, beginning with aeronautics platform when you were only ten years old, regrettably all for the navy." Turning to James, Darnell said. "You were lucky to get him."

"Thank you Sir, I think." Sloane replied.

"So what's so special about this boat?" The Colonel asked.

"I'm sure you know our brief was create something able to counter the German U-Boat threat to Atlantic shipping, so along with my colleagues here, Crane and Grayson we've rolled a raft of new ideas and concepts into one craft, but honestly we'd be no where if it wasn't for Queen Industries." Sloane introduced the other two men. "Colonel, this is Oliver Queen, and his technical director Roy "Speedy" Harper."

"Your reputation precedes you Gentlemen." Darnell acknowledged.

Queen was tall and blond, square jawed with a hard edge to his manner that belied his playboy reputation. His compatriot was a short slight fellow with a boyish face. "I followed your assault on the Land Speed Record with your Arrow Car. Most impressive."  
"Well that was down to Speedy's work on the engines." Queen said.

Commandant James said. "Mister Harper has developed the engines for our boat, he promises us a surprising lick of speed."

Diana listened to the men exchange greetings while she inspected the submarine moored to the docks. In the bright Caribbean sunshine she was reminded of Themyscira, and the great fish that swam in the waters around her homeland, for the dark vessel had been rendered in a smooth flawless shark like profile, even the conning tower had been stretched and flattened so it resembled a vertical fin, only the practical considerations gave it greater width, but the comparison remained.

The boat was tied close to the edge of the dock, which was lined with rubber stops, so close in fact that Diana could easily reach out and touch the hull.

"Strange stuff isn't it?" Queen asked her.

She turned and regarded the infamous playboy through her large glasses. "It is. It reminds me of plastic."

He smiled. "Yes that's pretty close to what it is. Something that Terry and I have been working on for a while now."

"I assume it's seamless structure results in a more consistent – more resilient hull."

Queens smile shifted to one of surprise. Diana guessed he hadn't expected her to grasp the engineering method behind the new material's application here.

"It's slippery too." Speedy Harper told her.

"Yes." She noted. "No rivets or joints or seams. Increasing it's speed through the water." Diana understood Harpers nickname served to underline his obsession with momentum.

Queen smiled again. His eyes twinkled around the creases, and the Amazon Princess sensed he was at ease around women, Etta Candy would have labelled Oliver as a Ladies man.

"I can see your skills must extend beyond taking shorthand Miss Prince." Oliver Queen told her.

"Diana is a qualified nurse, which means she doubles up as a field medic if this little pleasure cruise of ours hit's rough water." Steve Trevor told the multi-millionaire industrialist.

The two blond men squared off to each other, chiselled jaws jutted, blue eyes locked onto green.

"I think you'll be pleased Captain, that is along as performance matters to you." Queen told the Army Intelligence officer.

Trevor nodded. Diana stifled a laugh as the two men unconsciously strutted in an aeon old rite of male display.

"If we're ready we can go aboard." Commandant James informed them, breaking the spell.

Queen gestured to the boarding ramp that led onto the deck of the shark like submarine.

-'S'-

Luthor's trail went cold. The arch fiend had gone to ground, or at least water, Superman could see where the super-inhuman had landed after crashing through the prison wall, hitting the exercise yard. His feet had left clear indents as Luthor had leapt clear of the walls in a manner that reminded Superman of his own youthful style, as the angel of the dust bowl, but he was certain Doc Croc as Zatara had christened the Annunki hybrid Clone, had non of his good intentions. From there Lizard Luthor had leapt clear into the ocean that lay beyond the confines of Metropolis Penitentiary Isle. In the pale blue of the sky the Man of Tomorrow reflected upon the deep blue of the seas, and the immensity of the aquatic realm. Thinking perhaps Earth would have been more accurately called Ocean. This Lizard Luthor was a shape-shifter, and Doctor Fate had told him how this ability was a mark of Atlantis. Superman considered it unsurprising that the ancient Annunki should know of this secret – it seemed to fit with their strange mastery of biology.

Lizard Luthor's determination to cling to life, living to meet his execution. This apparent willingness to accept his fate, pleading guilty – inviting the death sentence, Superman now saw it all as being an elaborate plan, somehow, some way the Lizard Luthor had empowered himself using electricity – and Superman alone in that execution chamber had seen the reason for the red light which had glowed bright through the Lizard Luthor's chest, his x-ray like vision had confirmed it, lodged there was what he could only conclude had been a power stone.

It seemed only logical to connect the two.

Superman sighed, there was no sign of fiendish scientist and an ocean for 'Doc Croc' to hide in. Superman remembered reading about the incredible range and power of the fearsome Saltwater Crocodile, and he could not help but wonder what abilities the Lizard Luthor possessed.

"How did it get there?" Lois asked him. Clark explained privately that Superman had been unable to locate the escapee. Telling her what he had seen beneath the mad scientists chest.

"I don't know." He replied. "Lizard Luthor's physiology is plastic, able to reknit itself on the fly – I saw that much when Wonder Woman had him in her lasso, I guess the power stone must explain how he was able to survive the radium poisoning."

"And pass on the radiation to other people."

"Yes if I'd known to look for it then... but I didn't."  
"I think I should compile a list of Luthor's visitors in the big house, starting I guess with his lawyers, and the guards he met. There might be someone who can help lead us to him."

"Sounds a plan." Clark agreed. "I have to run an errand, go chase up a story."

"Really? What's that about?"

"I don't think you'll believe me if I told you."

Lois whispered "Clark Kent is Superman." She smiled. "Now tell me something unbelievable."

"Okay. I have to go and try and talk to a mermaid." He said.

"Good luck with that one Cowboy." Lois laughed. "Now seriously – what are you doing?"

-'S'-

Diana felt the Speedy Harpers engines hum into life, driving the generators that in turn drove electric motors connected directly to the boats propellers. Their course was set due south, heading towards Puerto Rico. The boat ran easy until they cleared the islands before their Captain Matthew T Sherman indicates that the bosun should open up the throttle, and the Sea Tiger picks up her pace, all the while Speedy Harper watches the dials set into the ships odd plastic hull.

Darnell was talking with Queen. "The battery life in these specs is impressive, how many hours can we stay submerged?"

"It depends on our speed, but we're looking at close to six days at a leisurely two knots, but we can reach close to twenty knots when we engage the hydrogen peroxide injection system."

"Of course, Mister Harper's special touch – allows the diesel engines to run without external air."

"It's been tricky to master – but Speedy managed it."

"Still those figures are close to amazing, you've outclassed the U-Boat by some margin."

"More than double."

"It's down to this hull." Harped said tapping the deck. "If it hadn't have been for Oliver working this out with Terry Sloane we'd not be able to do anything close to these numbers."

"Yes – Commandant James was telling me your research into this advanced plastic began with a hobby Mr Queen?" Darnell asked.

"Yes Archery." Oliver responded. "I wanted something far stronger, far lighter, and sleeker to use as an arrow, in tandem with a better material's for a composite bow. I dabbled with the new material they are calling fibre glass, then a chance meeting with Terry and some stiff drinks later we came up with this."

"I'm sure it was a more complicated that that." Darnell said directly.

Queen dropped his jocular manner for a moment. "Of course. The real advantage is in the structural integrity of our new material." Turning he moved to a set steps that ran forward of the bridge.

"Come with me." He said.

Diana followed Darnel and Trevor behind Queen. They entered a room that was set in the lower half of submarines nose, incredibly it was a window on the ocean.

"In reality the untreated material, we're calling it high tensile aluminium plastic or Hi-tap for short, is transparent, as used here and elsewhere on board, for the upper levels we've mainly gone with the camouflage grey blue stripes effect, which we borrowed from the Tiger Shark itself."

Steve Trevor tapped the transparent window curving beneath him with his foot. "You're saying this is transparent aluminium?"

"Well it's more complicated than that, but Aluminium is present in Hi-tap, and the material is every bit as revolutionary, perhaps more so."

"How deep can you go?" Diana asked.

"That young lady is an excellent question." Terry Sloane said as he joined them in this forward observation lounge.

Diana smiled, he was clearly no older than she, but as she remembered even as a child he had lived an adult life in this Patriarchy. She wondered how such intelligence had affected him, seeing a sadness in the young man's eyes. Sloane put away his note book. "Tests indicate we can easily double existing depth limits of submersibles."

"Seriously, your talking around going to a thousand feet?" Steve asked.

"I'm more than serious Captain Trevor. Theoretically we could go far deeper still, my figures suggest we could plumb the ocean depths – perhaps even two thousand feet."

"That's incredible, this material could revolutionise every facet of industry – and win the war. In fact I've only ever seen one thing like it – Wonder Woman's Plane."

"I don't know what that machine is made of." Sloane said. "However you are right Hi-Tap could prove a war winner."

"There are problems." Queen stated. "This submarine represents almost all the Hi-Tap in existence, four years of work – production I mean to say, was used, most was salvaged from existing projects and recycled, including the Green Arrow Land Speed Record Car to build her - in terms of cash money the Sea Tiger might as well be made of gold."

"Even so it's a tremendous achievement." Darnell said.

"And it's only money." Queen laughed. "If we can meet and beat the U-boats in the Atlantic, we can turn the tide of the Axis advance, and release their strangle hold."

"With more work I'm sure I could increase the rate of production, and lower the costs." Terry Sloane promised with the confidence of a optimist. Diana suspected he had the genius to carry out his vow.

-'S'-

Superman also flew south of Bermuda in search of the area the sailor had identified to Clark Kent as the location of his mermaid sighting. Chet Furnall for all his bluster and hyperbole had been telling Clark Kent the truth – as he believed it. Superman's inbuilt lie detector, the ability to hear the raised heartbeat, the changes in respiration, when a lie was being told all pointed to that, but people believed crazy things the world over, and yet Doctor Fate had told him merfolk existed, as one of the lost tribes of Atlantis.

Superman scanned the waters, these were rich fishing grounds, and Furnall had been working here before travelling to Metropolis to sell his story, hoping to raise enough money to fund a expedition to capture the creature, as he had put it. Perhaps it should not have come as a surprise that Furnall's accounts had garnered enough attention to guarantee others had the same idea. Among the simpler fishing vessels sleeker craft searched the waters seeking the legendary sirens of the sea. Superman felt guilty, Kent's albeit tongue in cheek piece for the Star had only raised the profile of Furnall further.

Using his telescopic vision the Man of Tomorrow was able to process miles of waters in minutes, his x-ray like vision penetrating the depths, his search brought all manner of undersea creatures to his attention, then he spied her.

The flame haired maiden swam with powerful strokes of her golden tail, she wore a yellow dress of sorts that ended around her waist were the tail emerged, and this powerful fluke drove her towards one of the brightly adorned pleasure cruisers that Superman suspected had come to search for her. As she approached the expensive yacht there was a cry from on deck, and to Superman's horror he could see a harpoon more suited to the butchery of whales had been fitted on deck, it took only seconds for the sailor manning the weapon to launch a deadly spike at the mermaid in his sights.

Luckily for her, it took less time for the Man of Steel to place his highly durable body between her and the barbed javelin.

"Here. Have it back!" He shouted, hurling the spear directly into the harpoon gun's barrel, where the spear became lodged, disabling it.

Shouts of rage echoed across the water, which he was glad to ignore.

"Come along with me miss." Superman said. He was aware she might not speak English, but he hoped his actions spoke more loudly than his words. They clearly said enough, because the mermaid wrapped her arms around him, as he carried her clear of the busy fishing ground.

Coming to rest in the midst of the green waters of the Sargasso Sea, she spoke to him.

Superman's hearing was of course incredibly acute, and her tones went beyond human norms but even so only his knowledge of ancient Greek allowed him to make sense of her words. For all the trouble the Ultra Humanite had brought, Hepheastus's legacy continued to prove useful. He had learned Greek to better understand, and now again he was listening to the ancient tongue of Plato. It made sense he supposed that a creature from a land lost so long ago would use the language of the man who most famously recorded the fate of Atlantis. It also suggested that this lost tribe of Atlantean's had been out of contact with the surface world for centuries.

"I cannot breathe air." Was the gist of her statement, she sank below the water. Superman followed. He didn't breathe water as such but could super compress air in his lungs, should he need it, breathing was a secondary source of energy to his absorption of solar energy, as far as communication was concerned he could limited amounts of air to speak. Under the water the range of tones made more sense, as they must, the mermaids adaptations to underwater living were consistent. She looked at him with her dark purple eyes, she was in every way enchanting, very much a siren of the sea..

"I am Kuella, of Tritonis. I thought the gods had abandoned the realms of men."

"I am Kal." Superman replied. "I am not a god."

"I thought you were perhaps Mercury."

"I'm a man."

"Forgive me my lord, but your actions say you are more than any man."  
"I have abilities, yes. I am called Superman by many."

"Then Superman perhaps you can warn the surface world."

"Warn them of what?"

"Your war has not gone unnoticed even in the depths of sea, your ships fall like rain down upon us, spewing poison and death, there are some among my people who believe your war will yet hurt us."

"It's not a war my country or our allies want, but there is an aggressor who does very much wants to defeat us – defeat our way of life. We want the war to stop – but not with the Nazi's winning, because we would lose so much."

"The leader of those who would end your war is called Akthar."

"End our war? How would he do that?"

"By joining with your enemy. He believes this Hitler to be a strong leader, and that he is winning. Akthar wishes to see the war end, and to do this he will give powerful old magic of Atlantis to this warlord of the Germans."

"I see you've come to warn us."

"It is not right – it is against our laws, to grant such favours, we our bound by our beliefs to remain below the waters, and have no contact with the dry world."

"And yet you are here."

"I gladly break the solemn law to prevent a greater tragedy, even if by doing so I forfeit my own life."

"Why would you risk so much for a people and place you have never seen?"

"I bear the flame headed mark." She replied.

"I don't follow."

"Of course, it is perhaps different among your kind, but among us fair hair bestows certain powers, I have ability to glimpse the futures."

"The futures?"

"No single course is sure, a different choice here or there can change everything, and sometimes nothing can stop the wheel of time turning down a particular path, but I have seen what will become of your world should Akthar's plan come to fruition, he will rule the seas, and this Hitler the lands, but there will not the peace he tells us – but a war that will kill us all."


	64. Chapter 64

1942 part 2

Wesley Dodds hadn't intended to embrace mysticism, a logical mind given to deductive reasoning arguably presupposed him against such things. Flights of fantasy. Or so Bruce Wayne had called magic during their long discussions late into the early morning. Already those College days seemed a lifetime ago. Then as freshmen at Princeton the two scions of American nobility had got together to talk about the world and how to make it right.

Now Dodds was a card carrying member of the Justice Society. Retitled by Presidential order as the Justice Battalion. A magical breed of hero surfaced in these most troubled of times. As the Sandman, Dodds sat alongside the likes of Doctor Fate, the Spectre and liaised with the Fed's Magician Gio Zatana.

Even the Bat-Man had been forced to set aside his pragmatic scepticism in the face of the Red Monk's.

Collecting his Fedora hat and gas mask Dodds hid his face behind the signature disguise of his alter ego the Sand Man. It was a mechanical contrivance that prevented him for succumbing to his own preferred weapon. The chemist Wesley Dodds had created formulas of floral scented knock out gases. All of these were rooted in the real world of science, but the mask he wore had come to signify his altered mental state. A brush with destiny - as his colleague and unabashed mystic Doctor Fate described Dodds's experience two years earlier, had changed his perspective forever. A trip to war torn Britain had more than radicalised him to the Allied cause, it had also gifted him with precognitive dreams.

"Miss Lane." The Sandman greeted the intrepid girl reporter in the shadows of side alley down from Central Station. "Mr Bradley told me where to find you. Welcome to New York."

"Yes Slam told me you were looking for me." Lois replied. "What gives?"

"I believe you are investigating the associates of 'The Light'?"

"Yes. I guess you heard that he,.. well escaped. If you – or indeed any of the Justice Society wants to help I won't say no, my usual side-kick is other wise engaged."

"I'm sure you recall your trip to Los Angeles, that coincided with the first outbreaks of the Purple Plague in Metropolis?"

"I certainly do – what has this to do with 'The Light'?"

The Sandman reached into his long Trench Coat, and took out a copy of the Daily Star. Lois took it from it and reading the date she said. "Okay this a couple of years old, you realise when this was published I was laid up in Hospital?

"I got caught up in the Metropolis Municipal Stadium collapse." Lane explained.

"Yes you received a blood transfusion from your partner Clark Kent."

"How did you know that?" Lois asked. "I'm not sure I like your style Mr Sandman, hiding behind a full face mask – it's all very mystery-man of you.

The Sandman adjusted his wide brimmed Fedora Hat. "I'm sorry for that Miss Lane. Perhaps I should consider a costume change, but then again I'm not as quick on my feet as say the Flash, or as light off them like Superman or Wonder Woman. We mere mortals have to rely on more conventional methods to preserve our anonymity."

"Look I didn't mean to be critical." Lois sighed. Adding with a wry smile. "You see I know what you mean. Try keeping up with the Man of Steel.

"Okay, I'm dog tired, I've been running all over town chasing a bum lead, so please tell me what's so important in the back copy?"

The Sandman reached down and tapped a bottom corner column story. "Here where Kent describes the abduction of a fellow called Terry Curtis."

"Wait I remember Clark telling me about that – didn't he blow a whole in a wall in a building down town of the Star – something about experiments into the power of the Atom?"

"I believe so. Curtis however ended up in Los Angeles. He was one of the many people Superman helped save following the quake – the one that was centred around Ultra Humanite's lair in the Hollywood Hills."

"Now there's a name I haven't heard in while." Lois frowned, it clear wasn't someone she wanted to remember. "So I'm guessing this guy Curtis is a person of interest?"

"Correct. At the time he was just one of many unwilling participants in the Ultra Humanite schemes."

"And now?"

"Well I've reason to believe that he has been playing with the Lizard Luthor. That Curtis has applied special knowledge of certain material's – things he must have acquired during his captivity in LA. This occult science has been instrumental in creating the Death Ray which gave 'The Light' his power."

"By material's you don't by any chance mean a power stone?" Lois concluded.

"I do."

"How do you know all this – I've been running around both here and Metropolis and coming up with nothing – no one seems to know anything concrete about the Brotherhood's illegal activity. Those that should are either dead, or they can't remember a damn thing, thanks to that Lizard Luthor's awful mind control. "

"The truth of the matter is this Miss Lane. I dreamt the whole thing."

-'S'-

Arthur Curry had grown up on the coastline of Maine. A Lighthouse Keeper, a man given to solitude, and a disciple of the sea. He was the only father the Swimmer had known.

The Swimmer had been a child when the Lighthouse Keeper had found him. Adolescence still half his short life time away, but the boy was already both preternaturally strong and self reliant swimming with the pod, communicating telepathically with the Dolphins who had cared for him, raising the Swimmer as one of them, making him very much a latter day aquatic Tarzan.

Distrustful of humanity the Swimmer had until then only seen man as a hunter. The Light House Keeper had shown the boy that his kind could also show great compassion as well as cruelty. Arthur Curry had given the boy his name, given him his language and values. He had given his adoptive son a window on the dry land's history and culture through the written word.

Arthur Junior had wondered about his own story, how was it a man could breathe under the water – from where had Aquatic-man come? Seeking answers The Swimmer had left the Atlantic coast and sought answers in the deep.

The young aquatic-man's search had taken him to Bermuda. There he discovered ruins that long ago had plunged into the sea. Here he had found relics of the lost continent of Atlantis, among them the armour he wore, mail made of a metal so fine it almost floated. Emerald and Orange gold, it clung to him – a second skin. The material fit as if made for him, even accommodating the strange fins that unfolded from his calves.

This been stored in a Cave complex that could only be accessed from the sea, the entrance hidden amongst the ruins of Atlantis. Young Arthur Curry found evidence not only of ancient Atlantean occupation, but of another adventurer from the dry lands. This man's journal haunted Aquaman.

The writer did not name himself, but he spoke of fame and glittering awards, of recognition by the Académie Française of Paris, the Royal Society of London, the National Geographic Society of Washington DC, and of the death of his wife in childbirth. Even as he made the discovery of the Caves, he had lost her, but their son had lived, a blond haired boy.

Finding the Cave complex was a treasure trove of knowledge and splendour that surpassed the wonderful things of King Tut's tomb in the valley of the Kings. Wracked with guilt over his wife's death, the adventurer had dedicated himself to understanding the mysterious lost culture. This civilisation had achieved so much so long ago, before being drowned in a terrible catastrophe. Then had come the breakthrough. Ancient Greek texts stored with Atlantean counterparts were his Rosetta stone. The last revelation was greater than the first. Atlantis had not died in the great flood, but fractured Atlantis yet lived on, that shattered disparate colonies survived the deluge, these had clung onto life under the seas. Determined to understand how man could live under the sea by breathing water instead of air he began experimenting on both himself, and later his own son. Arthur Curry saw in those words an answer, concluding the blond boy described by the grief maddened scientist and explorer could only be himself – or so Arthur Curry believed.

In the Atlantic Theatre the now adult Aquaman had come to know war. That same war had unleashed a new and brutal breed of Pirate, one that hunted in packs. Horrified by the evil he saw, Aquaman had operated from his secluded caves seeking retribution. Hunting the U-boats and saving those he could.

Aquaman drove the Nazi Pirate through the water. The man coughed and spluttered.

"Where is Black Jack?" The King of the Seas demanded. He sought this most dreadful of the Sea Wolves.

Beyond a vessel lay burning, it bore the name SS Beaver, the ship lurched and sank as the sea rose to claim it.

"Come on answer me." Aquaman shook the felon. The sea water buffeted him as the high speed progress of the Swimmer jarred the Pirate against the waves.

They plunged through them as he encouraged the captive to give up the information he sought. "The Octopus League has left you for dead in the water – only I can save you now, but first tell where can I find his new Submarine Fortress – where is Black Jack?"

Aquaman had heard from the sea creatures with whom he communicated, of the incredible submersible Island that had recently emerged into the Atlantic war, but he already knew of its cruel Captain.

"Herr Jakob has gone." The Nazi replied. His eyes stared defiantly.

"The crew of this vessel? Where are they?" Aquaman demanded.

"Your kind want them."

"My kind?"

"The water breathers."

"You're lying." Aquaman said immediately.

"I know what your kind can do. I have seen it. I know what your _real_ face looks like."

"This is my real face." Aquaman said with conviction.

"If you believe that, then you are a bigger fool than Herr Jakob first thought."

"Where is he?" Aquaman asked as he angrily dived beneath the waves, moments later he burst out into the air, carrying the Octopus League man high above the sea.

"He has gone deep – into the deep of the trench." The Nazi gasped.

Aquaman released him, casting the flaying figure towards a life boat. There was no crew aboard the stricken freighter to need it, and without further word, but a mind full of questions Aquaman turned and swam south.

-'S'-

Superman felt the cold waters of deep envelop him as he followed the powerfully fast mermaid, she swam ever deeper and the blue waters became dark as night as they plunged into the deep oceanic trench located on the boundary between the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, north of Puerto Rico. What the Man of Tomorrow could not know was that Tiger Fish experimental Submarine was also on a heading for the same deep water.

-'S'-

"Where did that come from and how is it moving so damn fast?" Steve Trevor demanded.

Terry Sloane consulted the sonar scope, a product of shared secrets between Britain and America following the Tizard mission in 1940. "I don't know Captain Trevor, but it's big, bigger than any U-boat ought to be."

"Perhaps it's the Hitler Class Boat – the Black Knight, our intelligence suggests it runs secret ops' for the Nazi's." Steve suggested, remembering intelligence gathered during his time in Berlin.

"I only wish it was." Sloane informed him. "This echo is considerably bigger even than Type Eleven."

"I believe Colonel that we've sighted our quarry." Captain Sherman said as he pulled away from the scope. He turned and gave orders for a pursuit course. "Helm keep your distance, and stay in his wake, let's not let them know we're following them."

"What's going on Sir?" Steve asked his Superior. "Special orders." Darnell explained. "Direct from the White House, basically this shakedown has just become active mission."

"But we've civilians on board."

The Colonel nodded. "Things are not quite as they seem Steve." He turned to Diana.

"Miss Prince, could you locate Mister Queen and Mister Harper and get them to the bridge please."

Diana nodded.

Steve frowned as she left, but he was well used to the need-to-know rule that secrecy often demanded.

Shortly they were joined by the civilians and Lieutenant Diana Prince.

"Gentlemen." Darnell indicated to Oliver Queen, and Speedy to Harper, also to Sloane and his technical team of Bob Crane and his colleague Chuck Grayson. The Colonel stood with Matt Sherman at the chart table on the command deck.

Captain Sherman withdrew a sealed folder from a locked draw in the body of table, he passed this to the Colonel who lay out it's contents. Saying.

"Over thirty vessels have gone missing in the area referred to by mariners lore as the Sargasso Sea, although recently the more lurid title of Bermuda Triangle has gained popularity."

"Not with me." Trevor said. "Although there was an up side to the experience."

"Quite Steve. Thing is we've examined transcripts of radio communications from the lost ships and a pattern as emerged.

"First there is loss of the ships compass, and other anomalous electrical activity – usually radio communications fail at this point."

"Interesting." Bob Crane commented.

Darnell continued. "Some transmissions last long enough to describe a loss of rudder control. The Navy recorded some of later transmissions. In some of those distress calls the Feds' were able to make out through the static chatter something about a purple haze or mist."

"Colonel – I hate to say but this all sounds very familiar to me." Steve told them, recalling his own similar experiences flying the Atlanta XP-38 prototype which had thrown in across the world to the hidden realm of Themyscira. The upside of the crash landing and near death experience had been meeting Wonder Woman.

"And this is connected to this large sonar contact how?" Terry Sloane asked.

"Woodley Allen put an operative of the Justice Battalion on board a freighter out of New York. The SS Beaver was intercepted by an invisible force and dragged off course. Starman was able to determine it was the result of some kind of concentrated magnetism on a massive scale."

"Hence the disruption of the compass and other instruments." Sloane concluded.  
"That's what the Navy thinks." Darnell agreed. "A purple haze extend around the freighter like a mist, apparently this rendered the crew of the Beaver unconscious. This flare originated from what Starman described as submerged island sealed under a metal dome. Starman's last communication to Allen indicated he intended to board what he described as a floating fortress."

"And you think this sonar contact is our bogey?" Sloane concluded.

"My orders are to find out who what and where this Pirate is." Captain Sherman stated. "This blip is the biggest thing I've seen detected via SONAR, if it's not one of ours, I'm forced to conclude it's one of theirs."

Darnell nodded in agreement, saying to them.

"Gentlemen you all volunteered your services to your country – this team was put together very much on the hop to meet this peculiar challenge.

"And that's why we're currently following this particular rabbit down it's hole."

"What about the Justice Battalion?" Trevor asked.

"Good question." Darnell acknowledged. "Starman is obviously missing. I've been told to expect Wonder Woman to be close to hand, whatever that means, and that both Superman and the Green Lantern active in the area. As ever Steve we'll have to wait for them to contact us."

-'S'-

Lois Lane was awoken by the sound of thunder or so she thought, falling from her Hotel room bed she looked past the week old bouquet of roses to the night sky that on this day February 24th 1942 looked more like the Fourth of July as the searchlights criss crossed the gloom, and anti aircraft guns boomed. The clock by her bed read a little after 3.35 am.

Hastily Lois dressed and headed outside. Peering into the night sky she was stunned to see a shape illuminated by the search lights and tracer shells, reflecting orange as shells exploded around it. The aircraft was shaped like flattened cigar as best she could determine, and it reminded her of the ill fated Hindenburg and it's ilk. As an Army Air Corps brat she knew that no hydrogen filled blimp could withstand an barrage from multiple anti-aircraft artillery positions, she also had a good idea how much flak was being directed skyward – this was no small scale engagement.

From the sky debris rained down across city. By morning this would prove to be spent cartridges from the city's own defences, but in the darkness nothing was so clear. At the Hollywood Intersection just down the Street from the Hollywood Plaza Hotel where Lois was staying, she saw what seemed the inevitable consequence of the anti-aircraft guns incessant thunder, fire falling from the sky. The fireball hit the street.

"It's a plane." A man near her shouted, pointing to the crash site.

"They've got one." Another agreed. Lois however didn't. She ran towards the intersection. It was neither a bird or a plane but something else, something almost human.

The flaming figure stood on the cracked pavement, the tar melting beneath his feet. He turned to Lois.

"Master." He cried out. The fire that surrounded him burned less fierce, revealing a golden metallic hide. "I knew you would find me."

Lois stumbled back from him. "You're on fire." She gasped.

"One moment Superior Intelligence, I forgot myself, in this form you are susceptible to my bodies radiations."

Lois swallowed hard. It had been three years since she heard that particular title. A twist of fate had given Lois film star looks. The Metropolis Picture Post had taken great delight in highlighting this, running pictures of Dolores De Winters and Lois Lane attending the Metropolis première of the movie star's break through film. Drawing the Golden Apple's attention to the fact she and Dolores looked very much alike. De Winters had become the unwilling vehicle for the Ultra Humanite's consciousness. Some how and for some reason, three years after Superman had rescued both Lois, Dee Dee, and Los Angeles from the consequence Superior Intelligence's secret war, this inhuman man was convinced Lois was the Ultra Humanite wearing De Winters body. Even if it was a case of mistaken identity, it still made no sense. Superman had seen the Ultra Humanite banished to another dimension.

"Come Super Intelligence – we should leave."

"She's going no where with you bub." Lois heard the voice and saw the man. The Atom bowled into the still smouldering figure, knocking him backwards. The diminutive pugilist, launched a tirade of blows, putting himself between the Lois Lane and Ultra Humanites agent; who then said.

"You should not have done that."

Lois thought she could almost hear sorrow in his voice. His hands glowed, like hot pink flames before white hot light burst from him smashing into the smaller man, sending the Atom careering across the street, like a ball hit by a bat.

Lois screamed. Slam Bradley put himself between her and bad guy. His square jaw carried a smile. "Watch'ya doing in LA doll?" He asked as he carried her to the ground cushioning her fall before rolling on top of her as another blast of energy washed over them smashing windows and overturning a nearby car.

Lois pushed Bradley away. "Thanks, but I'm okay." She said looking for the Atom. The masked mystery-man, struggled to his feet. Guns sounded from across the street. In a burst of light the Ultra Humanite's agent leapt skyward, seemingly unwilling to stay any longer.

"I thought that was Superman's kind of thing?" Slam noted.

A second Mystery-Man appeared. He wore a bandanna around his head, that at first glance Lois mistook for slick black hair, ending in a pony tail. This he combined with a domino mask. Other wise his costume was a tailored shirt and tight fitting breaches, and a wide belt. It reminded her of the clothes worn when America was still the thirteen colonies. He carried twin Browning Hi-Power 9mm semi automatic pistols. "Are you all right Miss." The accent she remembered. Putting that together with the distinctive guns, she bet on who this had to be.

"I'm fine Trey." She replied. He holstered his guns, and she took his hand.

"That told you." Bradley laughed.

"I guess it did." Tex Thompson helped Lois to her feet. "So you remembered me." He said. Adding. "Despite the mask?"

"Let's just say I've had experience with people operating under assumed identities." Lois said.

Thompson's colleague joined them. Lois was wrong this time, she had expected Gio Zatara, but the man introduced himself as Bart Regan, he had a badge, but little else in the way of identification. Lois got the impression that whatever agency he belonged too, she hadn't heard of it, and that was the way it was supposed to be.

"I have a car waiting." Regan told them. "We should get along before local law enforcement turns up and starts asking awkward questions non of us have the time to answer."

"Great because I've really got to go talk to someone." Lois said.

Bart Regan gave her the kind of look a guy gives a woman when he didn't expect her to be proactive – to take the initiative.

"If you want to get to the bottom of what's going on here tonight." She pointed upwards at the night sky where the bright tracer fire, search lights and anti-aircraft rounds blazed. "Well then you'd do well to help a girl out here."

"Okay Miss Lane, I'll play ball." Regan agreed after a moment of indecision. Turning to Slam, he said. "And I thought my girl Sally was a handful."

"Yeah." Bradley agreed. "Some would say you've got to be Superman just to keep up with this hot potato."

"Thanks Slam." Lois said thinking to herself, I wish. Looking at Bradley with all the condensation she could muster, as she climbed into the front of the big town car.

"Where too then lady?" Regan asked as Slam helped the Atom into the back seat. The smaller man was clearly still hurting from his encounter with the golden metallic man of light and fire.

Lois replied. "Beverly Hills. We've a movie star to talk too."

-'S'-

Superman plunges every deeper into the waters of the Sargasso Sea's depths. Each league takes him into the unexplored and unknown. He knew human science hadn't reached the primordial dark corners of the oceans. Water made up the greater portion of the world's surface. Confident that no man had penetrated so deep he considered the Mermaid who he followed, wondering about her origins, whether her kind could be considered human. The deep water was full of strange life, bioluminescent fish, creatures of remarkable beauty and horrendous visages full of teeth and spines lived unknown to science, reminding him of his own alien heritage.

Superman felt that perhaps more than anyone, he was the best placed to be the surfaces ambassador to this strange world, because he understood what it was to be human but an alien.

After some time his eyes pick out the spires of a fantastic undersea city, of tall spires and sweeping arches.

He swims beside the startled Kuella, thinking, about her incredible her biology. To function at these depths and pressures required great strength and durability. She turns to him, her face betraying conflicting emotions; fear and he thinks perhaps in her smile also hope.

"Why have you followed me?" She asked her voice full of pain.

"I couldn't bare to think you might be punished by Akthar for doing the right thing." He replied.

"I must face my fate." She told him. "You must not provoke a war by coming here."

"If Akthar has sided with the Nazi's then he has already declared war on everything I value. Let me come with you, speak to the people – your government, I'm sure I will be able to convince them that Akthar is wrong – and you were right to find me."

"No – you don't understand, I must throw myself on the mercy of my father." Kuella replied. "He's the only one who can pardon me."

"Your Father?" Superman asked his voice sending bubbles through the water. "Is he an important man among your people."

"Oh Superman." Kuella sighed. "He is the King of Tritonis. He rules this city, rules our people. The King's word is life or death among us. So it has always been since the beginning."

"You're a Princess." Superman realised.

"Yes I am. If I were a commoner I would never have been privy to Akthar's schemes, but he seeks to woo me, so he can supplant my father. He wants to use me to usurp the throne of Tritonis."

"I'll help you." He said.

"I never asked that. In fact I'm telling you the opposite – you should not – you cannot help me."

"I guess I'm a contrary Surfacer."

"Please let me go to my Father." Kruella begged. "Please go home Superman." She then left him swimming away with a powerful stroke of her tail.

-'S'-

"Lois, this is a surprise. How's Clark?" Dolores De Winters embraced the girl reporter with genuine warmth. "Who are these... err gentlemen?"

Lois understood her trepidation. Beside Regan and Slam, there was the flamboyant Mr America Trey Thompson, and hooded and cloaked mysterious Mighty Atom. She rattled off a quick introduction. Before stepping inside. De Winters dismissing her butler bid them follow her.

"Dee Dee?" Lois asked peering into the eyes of the movie star. The Beverly Hills Mansion was all that star of the silver screen could ask for, in the voluminous living room before a fire place more suited to a baronial castle than California, Lois tried to work out whether this really was the actress.

"Clark's just fine Dee Dee." Lois said finally.

"He writes me the sweetest letters." Dee Dee told her. Lois smiled. De Winters wasn't the only actress in the room.

"Well?" Regan asked. "Is it her?"

"I think so." Lois told him.

Dee Dee didn't need any explanation to work out what was being implied. "Listen Mr Regan, I'm not sure who you are, but I'm me – I have been for some time.

"Lois what's going on? Superman told me that the Ultra Humanite was gone for good."

"Hepheastus has returned to Olympus. His long exile ended by Hera herself." The Spectre's deep voice sounds before his chalk white form appeared. His phantasmal body taking solid form in the room before them like the ghost he was. "Miss Lane." The Avenging Angel's dark green cloak and hood floated as turned to Lois. She nodded dumbfounded. Lois remembered how he and Doctor Fate saved her life in the North England, along with that of the British Prime Minister Churchill. Enabling the Shining Knight to drive the Nazi Sorcerer Wotan back across the North Sea.

"Spectre." The Atom said, limping over to the Justice Battalion's strangest member. "What are you doing here?"

The Cloaked Avenger reached out and touched the smaller man. Lois then realised this was not some simple greeting as the Spectre's hands passed into the body of the little strongman, entering his chest and belly. The Atom buckled at his touch, and literally by magic, it was Doctor Fate who caught the Atom as he fell. The blue suited Sorcerer appeared instantly by the Spectre's side, his golden cape and helmet glowed more brightly than the electric wall lamps as he phased into the room.

Dee Dee screamed.

"What did you do to him." Lois demanded of the Spectre.

"Psychic surgery Miss Lane. The Atom was far more seriously hurt than his pride would let him admit. I simply acted to save his life. He still has much to do, a great role to play. Now I must leave you to battle the ghosts above us."

With these words the Spectre vanished.

"Ghosts?" Dee Dee asked.

Fate placed the Atom on the couch, saying. "Yes Miss De Winter's – it appears someone has released from the subterranean lair of the Ultra Humanite an ancient power, one which the citizens of Los Angeles have mistaken for a modern day threat." Doctor Fate explained. "The aerial bombardment will do more harm to LA than it's target. Non corporeal entities cannot be damaged by physical attacks."

"Okay – I don't understand any of that." Lois said taking Dee Dee's hand. "But what you're both telling me is that this isn't the Ultra Humanite – that he's gone for good."

"Yes he is gone, but also – not exactly." Fate replied.

"I don't get it." Lois continued. "If he is gone back to where ever, then _what_ was that guy – the one who mistook me for Ultra?"

"You don't mean Terry Curtis do you?" Dee Dee asked.

Lois seized on the name the Sandman had given her in New York. "What do you know about Curtis."

"Only that he came to see me a few days ago. He'd written to me in the past, I mean we'd both been victims of the Ultra Humanite, however meeting him was a mistake."

"What do mean Miss De Winters?" Bart Regan asked.

"He seemed convinced initially that I was still possessed by Ultra, he started to shout at me about his wife, and his baby. He wasn't making any sense. Next thing I know he's slamming me across the room, I must have hit my head, because I passed out. When I came too he'd gone. I guess seeing me knocked unconscious so easily convinced him I wasn't the Ultra Humanite."

"Miss Lane could this Terry Curtis be the same man you saw earlier." Regan asked her.

"It was dark and he was wearing a helmet of some kind." Lois said.

Bart Regan dug into his jacket pocket and passed her picture of the scientist. That he was carrying the photograph told her a lot. Lois inspected the image. "Okay the mouth and jaw line are much the same. If I draw in the Gable moustache he wore - I guess it could be the same guy.

"But where did Curtis get those abilities from?" Slam Bradley asked.

"Slam, the Sandman told me that Curtis has been experimenting with the Power Stones for 'The Light'." Lois said. "I saw myself what the Lizard Luthor was able to do after absorbing electrical energy through one of these – something similar must have happened to Curtis.

"What I don't understand is why he's looking for the Ultra Humanite?" Lois added coming back to her original question.

"I suspect the answer lies in the caverns below these very hills." Doctor Fate replied. "The legends of the Hopi Indians tell of the subterranean world occupied by the Lizard Men. The Ultra Humanite co-opted this network for his own purposes."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Slam Bradley asks.

"The location of the entrance to these tunnels." Regan replied. "There may be materials there which might aide the War Effort."

Lois guessed Regan was charged with recovering Weapons of Magical Domination.

Doctor Fate held up his hands. "The entrance you speak of is hidden beneath North Hill street, overlooking North Broadway, Sunset and Spring streets. It was excavated in 1934 by the G. Warren Shufelt team, and later sealed by Doctor Occult and myself."

-'S'-

The man of tomorrow watched her progress, his super vision tracking her every stroke, piercing the walls of the underwater citadel as she progressed to the chambers of Tritonis's King.

He slipped through the dark waters silently readying himself to act if Kruella was not welcomed like the heroine she truly was.

"Great King Antaios." The shout echoed through the waters. Superman's hearing had adapted to the depths, and by listening to the chatter of the city he found this ancient language hard to understand. Only by listening and watching the people did he begin to grasp the meaning of more common words. Only a mind able to coordinate senses beyond human, direct hands and feet to move faster than a speeding bullet and then some, could have pieced together a working understanding of a language as quickly as Superman. Even so he felt the frustration of not understanding so much of the detail of the language, but he did not need any these subtleties when the one know as Akthar entered the throne room of Tritonis, along with his loyal retainers to point the finger of accusation.

"This Mermaid has broken the one law which has served Tritonis since the new beginning. She must pay the price. King Antaios – it pains me to say this to you, but your daughter voyaged to the upper world, to the dry sands, and spoke with the surfacers.

"All here today know the punishment for such a crime."

"I know it." Kruella says.

"Do you daughter – do you truly understand what you done?" The silver haired Merman's face was lined with age, and drawn with great sadness. His tail was wrapped around a pedestal like Throne, the focus of the great governmental chamber.

"Yes father. The law says I must die in 'The Pit of Horror', but I am not afraid of my fate, I had to warn the Surfacers of Akthar's treachery. As I must warn you – he accuses me today but he has done far worse than I, allying himself with the Wolf Packs of the Sea. Allying himself with the Surfacer's whose war has stained our ocean home with poisons.

"Father, Akthar wants your crown. I am sorry to say if I had acquiesced and become his wife he promised to spare your life – but I know you would not want that for Tritonis."

Akthar angrily swims to throne. "She lies. She has invented this story of perfidy on my part to escape the consequences of her actions." He turns to the Court of Tritonis's King.

"She must be abandoned to her fate."

There was a grim silence, broken by hushed whispers. "The Law is the Law."

Akthar turns away from the assembled nobles of Tritonis. The Merfolk fall silent, as their Marshal draws upon a great lever set into the Royal Throne Room's wall.

At the bottom of the tall room, which is arranged to take advantage of the three dimensional nature of aquatic space, a dark circle appears as an iris like mechanism rolls apart. This Superman realises this has to be 'The Pit of Doom' of which Kruella spoke. He can tell by the fear he senses in the ranked Merfolk that it must be a terrible punishment.

"Behold your fate." Akthar shouts.

Superman accelerates through the dark waters and into the city, his turbulent passage like thunder in the cold waters deep, bursting through the vaulted chambers he arrives a heartbeat later in the Tritonis Throne Room.

"Let go of her." Superman confidently speaks the language he has so recently acquired. His super muscle control mimicking the sound and style even if his grasp of the nuances of the words was not yet perfect.

Akthar looks at the interloper with unconcealed rage and hate. "You should think twice before opposing the Marshal of Tritonis – Surfacer."

These words reverberate around the great judicial chamber. The accusation is repeated in hushed whispers.

"See Tritonis. Look what the daughter of the King has done. Princess Kruella has brought a Surfacer to our city." Akthar points to Superman. He then says.

"See the way your King rules his own family. How can Antaios rule Tritonis when he cannot keep even his own girl child in check?"

"How can this man be a son of the dry sands?" A voice calls out.

"Yes how can a human being withstand the deep?" Another asks.

"He must be Atlantean." The crowd murmurs.

Akthar moves quickly to contradict their conclusions.

"The Surfacers have made great leaps in invention since last we visited their world." Akthar replied.

Superman turned on Tritonis's Marshal. "How do you know – unless you have visited my world?"

"Then you admit it – you are a Surfacer!" Akthar cried out, his face wore a grin of triumph. "But no Surfacer, I have not visited your world – I have not broken the law as the Princess Kruella has done, but yes – Tritonis, the truth must come out, Antaios cannot hide the truth any more."

The old King held up his hands in horror. "No Akthar." He gasped.

Akthar paid him no heed. "The Surfacers have visited our outpost at the edge of this great deep.

"I would have told you all this, but Antaois commanded it be kept secret from you.

"The Surfacers have built machines to plumb the depths."

The Court of Tritonis hissed now in horror, their tales slapped the water.

"And I – Akthar, I have kept Tritonis hidden from them. I made a pact with these Sea Wolves, while the King had no plan to save us. I – Akthar – saw to it that Tritonis was safe and undisturbed – a secret city, until Antaios daughter betrayed us."

"You treacherous fiend." Superman shouted. "You're pact is a deal with the Devil, you're a fool if you think the Nazi's will let you live in peace."

"Enough! Sieze him!" Akthar shouts.

Guards loyal to the city's Marshal swarm around Superman bringing their three pronged spears to bear. The angry Man of Steel ignores them, driving toward Akthar he pushes them aside, only to feel the sting of their mystical Tridents.

"Magic." Superman gasps, as the preternaturally sharp barbs dig into his flesh, rasping past his ribs the golden blades pierce his lung. The second Guard skewers his leg. Stunned and in shock the Man of Tomorrow falters. His blood runs red into the water.

"Forged by the great magic of old Atlantis Surfacer, these Trident are enchanted to cut through anything they touch. Even a Man of Steel." Akthar boasts.

The Guards drag him down the floor of the chamber, the hooked blades tug a his flesh.

"No!" Kruella calls out, and powerfully she drives herself toward 'The Pit Horror'. Crying out. "I will not let this happen." Bravely the Princess of Tritonis dives into the darkness below. "I accept my punishment, spare my Father, and this brave Surfacer."

Once she has entered the black, and disappeared from sight does Akthar answer her.

"Behold the traitor redeems herself in death." Akthar calls out. Turning to the King. He asks. "Aren't you going to join your daughter in death, has not the time come to let another more worthy Atlantean rule?"

Guards loyal to Akthar fall behind the King. Antaois realises too late that he has lost both his authority and his Kingdom. Breaking down in tears he sank from the throne. "What have I done." The old merman gasped. A broken man he capitulates, following his beloved daughter into the darkness.

"Throw the Surfacer after them." Akthar commanded, reaching out he grabbed the golden crown from Antaios head as he pushed the Mer King down into the Pit, and as Superman's limp body follows, Akthar crowns himself King placing the golden band around his own dark haired head.

-'S'-


	65. Chapter 65

1942 part 3

The King of the Seas dove south and he dived deep, slipping through the cool waters weighty embrace with preternatural pace. Speed given to him by a natural force that permeated his being, counteracting waters resistance, making him a frictionless torpedo through the deep blue. This speed force drove through his unique lungs - a legacy of a science which embraced magic, unparalleled quantities of water, prizing from the sea life giving oxygen.

Arthur Curry had only begun to understand his unique heritage and the origin of his abilities.

Comprehension came to him in unique ways, his telepathic link with all living aquatic fauna, his essential connection to the mineral rich oceans was one which transcended human understanding, it belonged to another time and place, an age of gods and demigods, when colossi had walked the earth, men of old, of renown, the sons of Atlantis, giants among men.

"Hold fast Arthur Curry." The voice echoed through the cold dark like a resounding bell, deep and clear. Aquaman turned kicking back bringing himself suddenly to a stop, around the waters churned as his redirected power agitated the sea.

Before him stood the visage of a man of power, hair like snow fell from his head and face, a beard like mist fell upon robes as dark as the midnight sky, peppered with stars, purple haze flashed around the folds shimmering as the stars themselves twinkled like diamonds set therein. Around about burned a fiery halo of light but not heat, an aura that separated him from the dark deep around about them.

"I am come for you Arthur Curry."

"Who are you?"

"I have many names, as many as the ages of man since I came into the world. I am born the last of the titans, a son to the Elder gods, a demi-god called in those dark times a Cambion, a child of Belial, but my father's name is older still; Erebus, the deep dark shadow, birthed from the chaos before the world was remade. You know me by my most modern of names. Merlin the Sorcerer."

Aquaman gasped and recognised the apparition. Athur Curry Senior had raised his adopted son with legends of daring, of chivalry, and the Knights of the Round Table, of King Arthur and Camelot. Yet no oft repeated myth could have prepared the Sea King for the startling apparition of the legendary figure.

"What do you want with me?" Aquaman finally asked. "I know nothing of magic, and even less about the gods."

"Although I was born by the mystic powers of the former age, a halfling child, my mother was your kin Arthur Curry, a homo magi, a descendent of the lost people of Atlantis. I was saved from the darkness that was my father, by the power of the new faith. I foreswore servitude to the elder gods who meant me to be their Prefect in the last days. Instead studied the hidden mysteries of all the ages. Free of them I chose not to destroy the world of men, but to save it. I chose my own course, to love this world and all who dwell in, on and above it."

"Fine words. What of Atlantis? What do you know of the lost continent."

"I have seen your destiny Arthur Curry, and you are called to lead the lost children of Atlantis into an new age of engagement and partnership with their fellow man."

"Lead them? Who are you talking about?"

"Your first quest must be to rescue those children of magic, your cousins of Atlantis , who are even now being deceived by the serpent race and their allies the Nazi's."

"Now I recognise those scoundrels."

"You seek the Pirate Captain Black Jack who wears the uniform of Hitler's SS, one Jakob Fange?"

That the mystical figure, this self styled Merlin of legend knew this fact gave him reason to believe in him."I do." Aquaman replied.

"Then know your destiny lies in Tritonis – lost city of Atlantis. Black Jack even now drives his submerged fortress to this place. There to enslave these children of Atlantis. For the traitor to Tritonis - one Akthar, former Marshal and now self appointed King will turn over to Nazi's the means to secure for Hitler the Trident of Poseidon."

"What is this Trident? Why come to me?"

"Arthur, like your namesake of old I must guide you. This weapon of magical domination controls the waters."

"What do you mean?"

"It is a three pronged weapon, and in the right hands all the waters in, on and above the earth must obey the one who wields the Trident. In one blade rests the power over all mist, vapour and steam, in the second all liquid water must yield and obey, and the third controls ice, together granting mastery over all the seas, lakes, rivers and frozen waters."

"That beggars belief." Aquaman swam closer to the glowing aura that surrounded the distinguished mage. "Where is it?"

"Before the deluge sank Atlantis in the great catastrophe of the first world, the Trident rested in the hands of the King of Atlantis. After the waters came, Zeus, Posideon and Hades acted together to banish the Trident from the earth, for too many had died because of it's great power. They sent this terrible artefact of magic to another realm. That is a separate pocket universe the Mystics called Venturia."

"I think I understand. You're talking about a parallel world to our own - another dimension of existence." Aquaman said.

Merlin nodded. "Banished along with the Trident were those whose perfidy brought about the great deluge."

"What?"

"Yes Athur Curry, those who sought to claim the Tridents power, killed to get it, in short their evil hands caused the waters of the Earth to rebel. So ended the golden age of man. Among these wicked Atlanteans were the daughters of Ares, called the Ha-Mazan, the brood of the Hippolyte, and with their alien allies – the sea serpent tribe belonging to the Typhon."

"If the Trident is no longer in this world, how can the Nazi's hope to possess it?"

"Because the lost Atlantean city of Tritonis sits above the only portal – the only door across time and space to this lost realm of Venturia, the doorway is called the Pit of Doom, as none can pass and live."

-'S'-

Superman remembered the fall. Tumbling in agony, injured falling down into the dark. Consciousness came and went as turbulence pulled them deeper, until the Throne Room's shaft of judgement delivered him, the King Antonis and the Princess Kruella through the foundations of the city and into the Pit proper. The great weight of Tritonis hung suspended in the deep water over this vast black hole in the silt ooze of the ocean floor, and as Superman was drawn inexorably down he fought against the dark. Struggling back to consciousness Superman recognised that the widening chasm was not all it first seemed. Purple and greens flared in the water, translucent walls of colour breaking the monopoly of darkness. Superman sensed the presence of magical energies – powers alien to his nature, but forces he had learned to respect, even fear. Magic's touch – the Tridents of Tritonis had cut him very deeply, opening wounds that bled profusely, weakening him.

Marshalling his senses Superman felt his incredible constitution asserting itself. He was healing, but not fast enough, the blood in the water alerted the denizens of the deep.

The Pit was home to the beasts of seas, and the ancient killers swam towards the wounded man and his cohorts. The hideous deep sea sharks contorted features were dominated by gaping mouths full of serrated edged teeth.

For Superman the challenge lay not in avoiding them, for despite his injuries his vulnerability was to magic, the physicality of the snapping jaws and thrashing tails of the frenzied sea predators was an inconvenience, but in neutralising the threat they posed to Kruella and her father. The old man and his daughter swam away into the abyss, to ride the current, deeper still.

Here other sea beasts lurked. Tentacled arms wrapped around the old merman, drawing him towards beaked jaws. The monster of the deep was a vast octopus, vibrant and alive with colour like some Metropolis Movie Theatre billboard at night. Biolumescient, the cephalopod's seven remaining free prehensile limbs lashed out seeking to capture the mermaid also, Kreulla was caught between the horror of seeing her father consumed and these flaying arms.

Something about her terrified face told Superman she was pleading with the beast, what good this might do, he had no idea, he thought perhaps her abilities included some measure of control over the sea's fauna – similar to the magic Diana possessed.

Superman's manner of conversation was more direct. Fist and then fist spoke for him, left and then right.

The Man of Tomorrow gasped as the powerful arms wrapped around him, for his torso was still healing, and he felt anguish as he fought to release the Mer-King from the great octopus's grip. Prizing the old king from the tentacles grasp, snatching him clear of the creatures mouth. Success saw Antonis and his daughter cast further into the chasm – the supernatural portal and with effort tempering might with restraint Superman freed himself from hunter, to fall himself ever deeper.

-'S'-

Entering the sealed cellar beneath North Hill Street the reconnaissance team gathered together under the auspices of project Alsos. Bart Regan was the officer in command effectively deputising the likes of Slam Bradley and the Atom whose exact relationship to authority was some what grey. Trey Thompson had quasi official status as the Americommando. Bart adjusted the brim of his fedora, and checked his watch, the green glow of the radium dial told him the others weren't late, not yet anyway. Regan had called in the help of two local operatives. The younger was a pugnacious kid, Sly Pemberton III, a young ivy leaguer who had joined the Secret Service direct from school and his partner, a bruiser by the name Pat Dugan, who had served with Sylvestor's father Pemberton II in the trenches during the Great War. An odd couple they had formed a partnership built on exploiting each others strengths and covering for the other's weaknesses. Already these secret soldiers had a string of victories behind them against the forces of conspiracy and treachery which ranked among the Axis sponsored Fifth Column.

Regan looked over at the diminutive pugilist. The Atom insisted he was non the worse for his encounter with super-powered scientist Terry Curtis which had demanded psychic surgery at the hand of the Spectre. Regan had no reason to doubt him, but he did. The Spy had in his own mind an obvious human distrust of magic and any science that appeared to be magic. He preferred things he could understand. At least in this he had much in common with Bradley and his costumed pal, even if he did find the masked vigilante an odd idea. Regan preferred the smart cut of his street threads, a good pair of shoes, and a well engineered gun. That had been Trey Thompson's style, but now he too had donned the cape becoming Mr America. Regan figured that Thompson had to be more comfortable with this magic come hero business having worked alongside the FBI's resident Magician Zatara Zatana, but even Thompson was in awe of the fearsome Spectre. The Avenging Angel obeyed a higher power, and his role in America's war was unclear, Regan hoped he was on their side, because he hoped their side was good - theirs was the side of the angels.

The Spectre's supernatural power had invisibly cleared the sky's of Los Angeles of the strange ghostly unidentified flying objects. Regan didn't know what the Spectre had done, and he reflected he'd rather not know. Putting that kind of detail - typing it down on paper, well it felt like he was filing copy for say Astounding Stories, or some other pulp periodical, not official Secret Service Top Secret reports. The previous day had seen the City of Angels return to a relative calm, with the authorities pressing forward with the clean up, and the papers more cynical hacks coming down on the side of mass hysteria in reaction to weather balloons.

With the arrival of Pemberton and Dugan their group was almost complete.

Now with the men assembled Doctor Fate joined them, his appearance from nothingness timed to the last second.

Exploring the Ultra Humanite's hidden complex beneath the city wasn't something any one smart would consider without proper preparation, and as much as it was within his nature to distrust the magic of Doctor Fate, Regan was glad to have the Justice Battalion's Magic Master at hand today. Regan reflected he'd need the Sorcerer's skill to undo the Magic Ward which sealed the breach made by Shufelt's team.

"So gentleman shall we begin." Fate said.

His question was met by quiet resolve. At least Regan thought to himself there weren't any dames with them to slow them down.

-'S'-

Lois Lane sat in a café across from the junction with North Hills road. It wasn't Paris. She realised she still missed those pastries from the Le Café de Flore. The LA coffee was black and bitter, like her soul. She wasn't included in Regan's operation. No amount of arguing was going to change that, like she had said. "Look Regan the fact is that both Delores and I can pass for the Ultra Humanite 'returned' – you might need us. You might need someone to – you know – pretend to be,.." But the idea wasn't enough for her to win the argument. Regan had interrupted with a firm. "No." He'd then left. Presumably to rendezvous with the others.

Dee Dee drank tea, with, Lois detected, a splash of bourbon. She wasn't making any waves. On the contrary De Winters was quite emphatic - she was happy at being excluded.

"There's no way I'm getting involved with anything remotely connected to that business ever again." Dee Dee said firmly sipping her copper coloured brew.

The third woman, their escort sighed. "If it's any consolation Miss Lane, I wish I was going along too." Sally Norris was Bart Regan's colleague in the Secret Service. She had arrived the morning after the air raid, and Regan hadn't exactly been stoked to see her. Lois imagined her duties as a spy were restricted to close quarters work with women, the wives and girlfriends of important politicians. Today that meant keeping an eye on Lane and De Winters.

It didn't surprise Lane that Norris wanted to see more action, to accompany Regan into the unknown. Lois understood that kind of hunger. What _was_ surprising was that Sally could easily have been her elder sister. She even looked like Lucille Thompkins nee Lane.

So here they sat, a triumvirate, three sisters from different mothers.

Lois could also tell there was more than a work centred relationship between Sally and Bart, whether they knew it yet, she wasn't sure. Although it was on her mental to do list, to find out.

"Geez sisters, what is it with you." Dee Dee said of their ambitions. It came over a little too forcefully.

"Me thinks the Lady doth protest to much." Lois teased.

"What do mean?" The film star looked at the reporter over the top of her dark glasses.

"I mean that you're not in the least bit curious? About another you – another me?" Lois asked.

Dee Dee waved her away. "You mean beside Sally?" She laughed that accusation off. Dee Dee too had seen the resemblance. "Look Lois, I know it's your job - to investigate." De Winters said. "But if you'd had... him in your head, your soul, you'd not be so anxious to join the boys."

"No I'd be anxious to make sure he wasn't coming back."

Dee Dee looked angry – but she didn't contradict her. Lois had guessed the other woman's fears.

"No one is doing anything out of ordinary." Sally Regan said. Lois felt a tinge of disappointment, she had hoped if not expected that the agent might rebel and disobey her orders, but she wasn't for turning, at least not yet.

"May I join you?" The voice came from above and from behind. Dee Dee was facing that way across the table, and she swallowed and shook her head - not in answer Lois thought at once, but in surprise. Lane turned and was at once startled. A cold feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach as she saw Dee Dee standing behind her, looking down at them – of course she realised in a heart beat, a faster and panicked heart beat, that this must be the Ultra Humanite. Terry Curtis hadn't been so crazy after all.

Without waiting for an answer the second De Winters slipped her elegantly clad form into the seat next to the real Dee Dee.

"What do you want?" Sally Norris asked.

"Your pistol Miss Norris is useless against me." Ultra said.

Lois couldn't see Sally's hands, she guessed she had a gun under the table.

"How can this be?" Lois asked the Ultra Humanite. "Last I heard you were gone from this world."

"Death cannot hold me."

"I..." Sally's kick made Lois reconsider her question. She had being going to say that she hadn't been told that you had to be dead to go to Olympus, she had the impression the opposite was true. It went against her nature to stay quiet, but Lois bit her tongue this time. The older woman made Lois know she was in charge with her tap at Lane's ankle.

"You came back from the dead?" Sally asked.

Ultra narrowed her face, there seemed to be confusion in her eyes. "That is not something for inferior minds to contemplate."

Lois recognised evasion when she saw it, and she saw it clearly in this woman who was not a woman's face.

"What do you want with us?" Dee Dee asked. Lois admired her steel. She was hanging in there. Staying cool.

"Leverage." Her doppelgänger replied.

"If you think we're just going to walk out of here, hand ourselves over to you without kicking up a fuss, you're crazy." Sally Norris said.

"I have a bomb in my purse." The Ultra Humanite placed the clutch bag on the table in front of her. "It is small but it will kill you all. In fact it will kill everyone in this room, and demolish this rather quaint cafe." Ultra said. "Of course in this body I will not be harmed."

"Convenient." Sally replied.

"If you doubt my word Miss Norris, then try me, but I would advise against it. Miss Lane and De Winters can tell you I don't make idle threats." Ultra stood up. "Shall we go?"


	66. Chapter 66

1942 part 4

The next level of the Pit of doom was a watery void that neither existed in the real world or the next realm, the hidden portal's destination. A bubble of crystal blue sea, that seemed to shimmer with light. It's brightness was a sudden and dramatic change from the cold deep dark. Dizzy the three strangers tried to gain their bearings. The only certainty was the current that seemed to pull them ever onward.

"Are you all right?" Princess Kruella asked the Man of Steel.

Superman raised his arm to show her how his wounds had healed, in a brief flash of power he used his heat vision to knit the Alien material of his costume together, the mend was nearly instantaneous and invisible, his signature outfit was restored as good as new.

"All better now." He said grinning, his smile was reassuring. Yet Kruella sensed his mind was elsewhere. "What can you see?" She asked. Extending her hands she listened by touch to the flow of the crystalline waters. The sensory information shook her.

"Whatever is it?" She gasped. "It must be huge?"

Superman turns to her. "Look after your father." He says, before powering through the water, the liquid frothing and boiling around him.

Beyond Kruella spied with her own superhuman eyesight, long ago adapted to water the truth of the matter. Within the strange aquatic world swam monsters.

The huge lizard dived towards Superman, four flippers sailing through the blue, driving the vast predator towards the two Mer-people. Closing the distance between them with unexpected speed.

"I can't hear it's thoughts." Kruella called out. "It can only mean one thing, that this a creature belonging to the Typhon."

Supeman had heard Wonder Woman use that name – Typhon - to describe the Annunki. In legend the Typhon was a vast world destroying monster who Zeus had trapped under the earth, yeah Superman thought, as a mythic description of the subterranean reptilian slavers it wasn't a bad one.

The beast which according to Kreulla belonged to his enemy, was sixty feet long, and Superman guessed it weighed maybe as many tons. It's jaws flashed toward the Mermaid Princess and her father. Jaws not unlike a monstrous crocodile, an aquatic Tyrannosaur. Each white dagger was well over a foot long, but they didn't find them. Instead they clamped down upon the Man of Steel.

Never before had Superman felt pressure from an animal like this one, it's bite was a monstrous as it's form, but even a creature from earth's distant past, a prehistoric beast was no match for the Man of Tomorrow. Deprived of forward momentum, the huge aquatic predator fell over itself in the water. Then two fists struck the Pilosaur between it's eyes. Sending the stunned black and white mottled beast falling back into the crystal waters. Superman could see that Kruella followed her father and the current. Deeper into the void, and in the blue of the waters he could see more prehistoric monsters swimming, lurking and waiting. Superman dived after his friends ready for a repeat performance.

-'S'-

"So this is the Ciudad del Diablos" Slyvestor Pemberton III asked. He played with his signet ring, which carried a five pointed star motif, it glinted gold as it caught the light of his torch.

Doctor Fate paused to study what appeared to be inscriptions on the rock wall. "It is indeed called by that name in local legend." He said, tracing the outline of the carvings with his yellow gloved finger. For the Magic Master light shone forth from the helm of Nabu, a gilded brightness illuminating the passageway ahead, the light seemed to spill like water falling down his golden cloak.

"Doesn't appear anyone been this way in a long time." Pat Dugan said. His booted feet scuffing along the dusty floor of the carven.

Sly noticed that Fate's feet didn't even touch the rock floor, instead the Magic Master floated forward surrounded by the mystical golden aura of power.

"That is true." Doctor Fate said to Dugan. "These catacombs were abandoned long ago. The Ultra Humanite's operations will be more likely in the deeper levels, extending under the Los Angeles Hills."

"Just great." Slam Bradley said ducking as they passed through a carved portal between natural caves. "Just what I need."

Slyvester reflected that his friend Dugan and Bradley were at a disadvantage, their height and size wasn't as well suited to caving. He was still a teen – just, and had a young man's body. Even so he'd knew he'd never be as bulky as either of them, they had the bone structure for it. Although what the Kid, as Pat called Sly, lacked in brute strength, he made up for in agility, speed and cunning.

Pemberton had a basic costume of sorts, a tight fitting blue suit decorated with stars. Dugan had a similar outfit, but with dark pants and a striped red and white shirt. As Star and Stripes they had sent a very obvious message to those forces opposed to freedom and democracy, law and order, whenever Stars and Stripes encountered them. Whether these be home grown Mobsters and the corruption that went hand in hand with organised crime, or straight out and out traitors, and enemy agents – they had all got the colour coded message, eventually.

Along with the Atom and Mr America, as costumed avengers they had elected for more practical additions to their usual signature costumes. This came in the form of military style combat pouch rigs. With these in place they looked more like soldiers than vigilantes, and that was only right. This was an Alsos mission. Direct from the Office of the President.

Only Doctor Fate retained his other worldly appearance unchanged.

Even Regan was for once not wearing a dapper suit and smart shoes. In the place of a tailored pants and jacket he had changed into combat fatigues, boots, and packs.

Time passed. They walked. Fate glided. Their journey was a long one, miles of passageway. Together the secret expedition travelled deeper into the bed rock. Caves and tunnels gave way to larger chambers containing crumbling dwellings. As Doctor Fate had said, the ruins bore all the signs of being long abandoned. The glowing figure of the Magic Master was a beacon. He lead, his mystic power divining the best route forward through the subterranean maze.

"We are beneath the hills." He told them after several hours. Fate paused by an opening, and cast out into the darkness a flaming ankh symbol that hovered like a flare whose suspension was not interrupted by something as common place as mere gravity.

The chamber he illuminated was vast. It had once been a battle ground. Sly could see bones of men in the shadows, and other strange human like but not truly human shapes blackened by fire. At it's heart was a vast pile of rubble.

"It was from here that Hepheastus was called home to Olympus." Fate said. "The pulse of old magic is still here, echoing around this place."

"Then Terry Curtis was wrong?" Regan asked. "The Ultra Humanite has gone?"

Fate turned from the chamber as his fiery ankh burned away to nothing. Framed now by darkness he shook his head. The glowing figure gestured they should continue. Fate talked as he floated onwards. "Hepheastus returned to Olympus, but the Ultra Humanite did not."

Regan coughed in surprise. "But they are the same person." He blurted.

"Yes they were." Doctor Fate replied.

"But they aren't any more?" Regan demanded. He was clearly not amused.

Fate stopped and turned the helm of Nabu's brightness toward the Spy. "No they are not."

Regan crossed his arms. "Explain – and tell me why you've been holding out of me."

"I wasn't certain of the truth." Fate replied. "When those ghostly forms flew above the city of Los Angeles, and when Miss Lane was mistaken for the Ultra Humanite by Terry Curtis. Then yes – both the Spectre and I both strongly suspected what _might_ be happening." Fate explained. Sly could see that Regan remained unimpressed.

"But until I visited this place we could not be certain. I had to see where the hand of Cronus snatched Hepheastus back to the Elysian Fields."

"Come again." Regan asked.

Fate sighed, saying. "The god Hepheastus _was_ returned to Olympus, and in the process of this transformation he was purged of any human frailty. Here on earth Hepheastus was a fallen and crippled god. Here he jealously pursued anything that remained of the old magic, the magic of power from the former age when the gods of Olympus ruled unchallenged. To do this Hepheastus forged a second personality, he created an identity."

"The Ultra Humanite." Regan stated.

"Exactly, when Hepheastus returned to the city of the gods, something happened to him. Hepheastus left this madness behind him, this dark side of his nature, much of the bitter and vengeful character that had caused his expulsion from Olympus was driven from his nature – as was Hera's plan from the beginning. What was sloughed off should have been but a pale ghost of what had been. Unsubstantial, and powerless, trapped forever in these caves – to wander without shape or form or power forever."

"But your saying that this ghost isn't trapped." Slam Bradley concluded. The big man's scepticism was clear in his voice. "And that's what Terry Curtis saw – you're saying he saw a ghost?"

"That appears to be the case Mr Bradley."

Bradley laughed. Sly thought it was more in bravado than disbelief. Slam said. "What is this – Halloween?"

Fate remained impassive. Sly understood why Slam Bradley was making light of this – it was terrifying.

The Doctor of Destiny concluded. "I fear Gentlemen, that whatever the Ultra Humanite has become, it is something far more substantial and powerful than a childhood story"

-'S'-

The Sea Tiger dived after the distinctive sonar trace. The large fast moving unidentified submersed object plunged deeper into the oceanic trench located on the boundary between the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, north of Puerto Rico. Terry Sloane was pleased that his collaboration with Queen Industries was proving itself. However their quarry suggested the enemy had also made huge strides in weapons technology. The Sea Tiger for all her svelte speed was a minnow compared to the vast Nazi Pirate craft. The huge vessel was no sluggard either. It didn't make sense – the technology was too far advanced, even for the impressive science of Germany.

"How much deeper can we go?" Steve Trevor asked him. The blond haired aviator was out of his comfort zone, Sloane read the signs. Trevor stood watching the depth meter's needle slide around the scale – mapping their progress. The Sea Tiger had already passed the thousand feet mark and their course took them further into the abyss.

Sloan noted that by comparison Trevor and Darnell's aide, Diana Prince was calm cool and collected. While beads of perspiration damped Trevor's forehead, she simply glowed, radiant behind her dowdy hair and uniform. Blue eyes flashed behind her big eye glasses. He looked back to Trevor knowing she had seen him staring.

Maybe men of lesser intellect were fooled by her appearance, but Sloane felt there was much more to Miss Prince that first met the eye.

"My calculations are sound Captain Trevor." Terry Sloane replied. "I am confident a Hi-tap hull of this diameter is good for in excess of two thousand feet."

"Yeah so you said." Trevor glanced back to the depth gauge, before smiling. "Just checking."

Captain Sherman tanned face frowned. "Well I too hope you're right Mister Sloane, because our lives depend on it." He turned to his first officer. "Lieutenant Holden do we have a firing solution yet."

"It's a rather complicated calculation sire." Holden replied, running his hand through his dark hair. His accent under stress betrayed him, you could take the boy out of the Bronx, but not Bronx out of the boy.

"I know that Mister Holden, we have discussed this problem at length." Sherman snapped. "But it's not like it's a small target."

"But it's a big ocean sir."

"Perhaps I should take a look at that?" Sloane suggested. "With your permission Captain."

"By all means." Sherman agreed. "Mister Holden will be glad of the help I'm sure. Just don't let him talk you into anything. As we say around here remember Seaman Hornsby."

"Who's that?" Colonel Darnell asked.

"Never mind Sir." Holden replied quickly. "Just a little navy humour."

"Yes." Drawled Sherman, with a wry smile. Perhaps I'll get around to telling you the sad tail of Seaman Hornsby once we get out of this scrape."

Sloane understood humour and camaraderie were a reaction too and a way of coping with the incredible situation they found themselves in, they were pushing the bounds of human experience.

"By the way." Sloane asked Holden as he joined him at the chart table. "How many successful submersible to submersible encounters have there been?"

"None." The Navy Leiutenant replied. The smile left his handsome face. In it's place the hardness of a professional military officer. "At least that I know of."

Sloane nodded. It was has he expected. U-Boats were hunters of surface ships. Targeting another submersible was a complex three dimensional problem given the less than consistent trajectory of a submarine. The large enemy craft presented a better target, but like Holden had said it was a big ocean.

-'S'-

New York lived up to it's reputation as the city that never sleeps. Crime perhaps more than any other activity pursued by the cosmopolitan population was most often a nocturnal one. For those bad boys who should be in bed, but rather worked the stuff of nightmares as an occupation, there was a chemical cure. The Sandman gas gun spurted green fire, the chemical compound reacting with the air gasifying filling the long room with a fine purple mist. His own mask protected him.

Hooded and robed figures staggered and fell either side of him, those who fought against unconsciousness received a helping hand, fists clad in a purple glove. Their expensive business suits looked incongruous under the medieval outer garments that marked them as acolytes of the Brotherhood of the Light. Moving through the well appointed chamber, the oak clad walls of the gentlemen's club with it's smell of old leather arm chairs and stale cigars mixing with the sweet flowery aroma of his gas, the Sandman approached a towering book shelf.

His dark purple gloved hand skimmed the titles looking for a particular tome.

Behind him a noise broke the spell of hushed quiet. Rising from among the fallen was a stocky man. Wrenching the hood from off his head, the bald man revealed a face contorted with rage. No -Wesley Dodd's corrected himself, it wasn't rage, it was as if his features were made of melting wax, they were changing and shifting. It wasn't just the green tinge of his pea soup knock out gas that coloured his skin. The tone of his flesh was changing, then like the snake he suddenly resembled, Lizard-Luthor leapt at Dodds, his fangs bared, his clawed hands extended.

Dodds guessed this fugitive from Metropolis had being playing possum, biding his time, waiting to see how much the Sandman knew.

Dodds dived to his left avoiding the death touch of the radium charged monster. Letting his gas gun spit it's signature fiery liquid directly into the face of the hybrid creature. Lizard Luthor spat out a long forked tongue, frantically rubbing the hot sticky liquid from his eyes as it reacted with the air. The inhuman half of the chimera gave him the strength to resist the Sandman's fragrant chemical weapon.

"I will tear you limb from limb, your silly toys are useless on me."

From the right of the room two figures now revealed their part. They took advantage of the situation. The Lizard Luthor had not been alone in playing out a role. The first swung the second a slighter man into a flying leap. Beneath the long robes of the Brotherhood, there was a flash of mustard yellow, an extended right foot clad in an ox blood boot caught the Lizard Luthor squarely on the head. Acrobatically the lithe man twisted divesting himself of the long robes directly onto the confused reptilian. Landing behind the fugitive, his dark mustard leotard revealed. His face concealed by a black mask. The Lizard Luthor staggered as crimson gas exploded around him. The second larger man had closed the distance between him and the reptilian. Firing his gas gun at point blank range. The barrel of this concealed weapon appearing from beneath his disappearing disguise. It was related in both style and application to that of the Sandman. Crooks weren't the only ones to make friends and pool resources. Yet again the hybrid reptilian did not fall as the crimson cloud engulfed him. Then the Sand man contributed his own signature gas. The bitter combination of chemicals reacted together creating a stronger and more noxious cocktail. This time the hybrid creature faltered.

The Crimson clad Adonis struck with his right, a bunched fist socked the Lizard Luthor on his jaw, the shape-shifter fell to the floor.

"Qui Vindicet Ibit. _The avenger will come_" The Sandman said looking at the blood red costume of his friend. The bullet motif like a sun at the centre of his chest. His crest and marker.

"Good to see you too." The Crimson Avenger said to his friend. Eyes behind a black mask smiled.

"And you." Dodd's acknowledged Lee Travis, the two had known each other since children. Fate had thrown them together as adults who had both for different reasons stepped up to be counted among the Vigilante Mystery Men in this new age of heroes. "That was some leap Wing." Dodd's said to the Avenger's crime fighting partner. "You are ever the consummate martial artist."

The smaller man was a Japanese American. It was a difficult heritage to carry after the attack at Pearl Harbor, but Wing How had remained both stoic and unbending in his loyalty to both his friend and employer Lee Travis, and more importantly the principles of liberty and democracy.

Groaning the Lizard Luthor was quickly secured by the Crimson Avenger in heavy duty hand cuffs.

The Sandman returned his attention to the bookcase.

"It should be here." He said coming to the section.

"You're sure the information is good."

"As good as my witness was bad, and he was a very bad man, I don't think he'll ever sleep soundly again." The Sandman reflected on the snitch who had spilled all he had known about this most secret chapter of the Brotherhood of the Light. Dodd's paused, his gloved fingers found a book entitled 'Myths and Legends of the Hopi Indians'.

Wesley reached forward and pulled the volume down, it did not slide free, but rather rotated smoothly on a hidden hinge, itself a cunningly concealed lever, and silently the bookcase slid back revealing a hidden portal into concealed room.

"Heh eh ha." Spat the Lizard Luthor. "I commend you on your strategy – you accomplished much in taking me down, albeit temporally."

"If you're clever you'll stay down. Unless you think you want to play with my .45" The Crimson Avenger shoved his automatic into the Lizard Luthor's line of sight."

"You shouldn't have opened that door." The hybrid creature replied. It's features shifted into the stocky face and heavy jowls of the bald middle aged man. Struggling through the dissipating gases Lizard Luthor raised himself to one knee.

"Don't try me." The Avenger said levelling his gun. "I don't play fair."

"Ah but you misunderstand. It's not me. It's that I have some special friends who want to play." The fugitive creature chuckled. "As soon as your colleague triggered the door to the hidden room, he also engaged a second device."

Wesley Dodds looked into the darkness. He felt his heart quicken for dark shapes formed in the shadows, then he saw the emerging blackness was like an opening, one that beckoned to him with rich purple and greens, it was almost hypnotic. He felt a strange magnetism tug at the metal trimming of his mask, at his equipment. At the same time electricity sparked from the void.

From this darkness two lights burned red in midst of the concealed room.

Each fire illuminated a figure. Each fire was a single orb, an eye in the squat head, metal in their entirety as if carved from iron as a artist might use marble. Their movement was fluid, mercurial – alive, unlike the steel limbs of man made machines. They walked from out of the void, sparks crackling from the purple shadows across their metallic shining surface. Each single fiery maw rotating, round flattened heads moving like the turret of tank spinning three hundred degrees, until each burning cyclops eye, returned to face the Mystery Men.

The Lizard Luthor rose laughing, as red fire streaked from the Cyclops eye of the Ultra Humanite's Adamantine Golem.

The New York Fire department later discovered the bodies of a number of prominent and infamous men in the burned out shell of the exclusive secret Lodge house, Temple of the Light, but the Lizard Luthor was not among them.


	67. Chapter 67

1942 part 5

"Mr Sanders."

Greg Sanders looked up from the table at the waiter.

"There is a long distance telephone call for you."

"Who is it?"

"The gentlemen didn't give his name but he told me to tell you that it was about your family business in Wyoming."

He frowned. His father had been a Sheriff in that state – it could be said, he supposed that the Sanders family business was law and order.

Greg stood up. The Hollywood Hotel was a little gaudy for his tastes, but the 'Plains Troubadour" had been asked to perform in a war bonds drive. His Agent had told him it would raise his profile in tinsel town, but Sanders was more interested in doing his part for his country. Then the other night everything had gone crazy with anti aircraft guns blazing and people panicking. Now the city was getting back to normal, well Greg reflected as normal as LA could get. Picking up his white hat and blue coat, very much the cowboy, Sanders walked across to the booth where the caller was waiting.

"Hello." He said. "Who is this?"

"My name is Lane, Colonel Sam Lane. Army Air Corps. I'm with the Editor in Chief of the Metropolis Daily Star, George Taylor, he's also on the line."

"Hello Mr Sanders." Taylor said.

"No hold on there gentlemen, I appreciate you taking the time to call me and all, but I ain't giving no interviews over no darn telephone. Ain't I doing enough singing for free out here in LA?"

"No." Lane replied. "You misunderstand me. I have a message for the man who goes by the name of the Vigilante."

Greg's heart skipped a beat, what was going on? He had wondered why a Colonel in the US Amy Air Corps, and a newspaper man, the Editor in Chief no less of a major metropolitan newspaper had called. He assumed Lane was in charge of liaising with notables of stage and screen to promote War Bonds, out to get a Newspaper man a story. Now he feared they had another agenda entirely. They wanted to talk to him about his secret alter ego. He expected the worst.

"I see." Sanders said. He breathed in deeply and asked. "Okay - what's this all about?"

Lane spoke. "I need to find a bunch of people, and I'm told the Vigilante is particularly good at doing that."

"I see." So far so good Greg thought, no out and out 'are you a crime fighter by night and a performer by day' question. He cut to the chase. "Out of interest, who told you I could err reach this Vigilante fella."

Taylor replied to him saying. "The proprietor of the New York Globe, Lee Travis mentioned you to me, he told me you and this Vigilante fell were buddies."

Sanders frowned once more. He had his suspicions about that particular newspaper man's nocturnal activities. He put two and two together, if Travis was the Crimson Avenger, as Sanders had come to suspect then in turn Travis may well have determined that Greg wasn't just a good ole boy singing country, but also the Vigilante.

"Okay what is this about?" Greg asked. He preferred the direct approach even so Colonel Lane's answer surprised him.

"A Secret Service Agent by the name of Bart Regan took his A-Team into the Los Angeles underground. I need you to find them."

"Seriously, what's going on here?"

"This is matter of National Security." Lane told him. "If you give me a moment I'll explain."

Greg eventually went with his gut. "Okay. I'm listening."

"My daughter Lois is missing along with two other women. Now it's only been a few hours since they were last seen, but we've reason to be concerned."

Greg thought this sounded personal, but he let the other man speak his turn.

"I had a friend," Taylor said. "A reporter with the LA Times who was looking out for Colonel Lanes daughter, as a personal favour to me. Given what he saw it doesn't look good."

Lane added. "That's why I need Regan to know what has happened."

"Can't you call this guy – this Regan's people?" Greg asked, careful not to say Secret Service out loud in the public area where the phone was situated. "Or use your own?"

"Normally I would." Colonel Lane replied. "But right now I don't know who I can trust. The girls were supposed to have Secret Service protection, but they were still taken."

"Okay I get it – you need some one from the outside. An independent." Greg said. "What I don't get is why you want me... to get Vigilante to find Regan and his people – get this message to them. Why not just straight away look for the missing women?"

"Because I know who has her," Lane explained, "and Regan is going after them. Trouble is he has no idea his cover is certainly blown, given that these three women have been taken.

"That's why I need some one who can find Regan's team and find them quickly."

"So you think they're walking into a trap – because whoever took these girls knows they are coming?"

"Yes – looks that way. Regan needs to know how the game has changed, that he has to mount a rescue."

"Sure I get it now. Anything else?"

"Just that there's a package waiting for your friend at the front desk. There are directions to the cave systems, and descriptions of the people involved." Lane paused, he then said. "The Vigilante will have to remember Regan and his men will be several hours ahead of him, he'll be working very much in the dark, literally, and underground."

"I'm sure he'll cope." Greg replied.

-'S'-

Superman caught hold of Kruella in the midst of the blue waters populated by the prehistoric monsters. Arm outstretched he took hold of her father.

"Come on, let's get you both home." The Man of Tomorrow said. "Now that I'm feeling altogether whole again. I think it's time to head back."

"You can't escape the Pit of Doom." Antonis declared. His face creased with certainty and fear.

"No one ever has." Kruella told Superman.

"There is a first time for everything." He replied with a wink. Taking a tight hold of both of them Superman dove into the current before the merfolk could resist, pushing back against the flow.

The Man of Tomorrow felt the primal forces of the portal between worlds pull at him, but his incredible constitution had experienced such transitions before, ever learning intuitively, Superman fought against this resistance. Beside him, held in his grasp the two Mer-people however quickly felt the full force of the Pit's strong magnetic like field. It was like they were polar opposites to this invisible force, so it was the Pit refused to release anything that entered. Superman felt Kruella's and Antonis's pulses race, he sensed their distress immediately.

Superman came to a halt.

"It cannot be done." Kruella gasped. The water driven from her body, she struggled to breathe.

"We're not done yet." Superman replied, he flicked the material of his cloak, and the elastic Kryptonian material expanded in the water, ballooning in the current – growing to the stretched shield shape that mirrored his familial crest. Bringing the folds of this parachute like cape around both Kruella and her father Superman wrapped them like babes in swaddling clothes, and then without further hesitation he drove forward, the two Mer-folk safely contained within. The Kryptonian fabric held taught by his arms as he accelerated through the waters, pushing against the current. Kal-El's relationship with smart material, part of his alien heritage was more complicated than first appearance suggested. It was reactive barrier, in conjunction with his body's unique bio-energy field that made his default highly resilient physical make up nigh invulnerable, this same aura made him slippery like an eel, and he dove forward through the frothing waters. From bright blue to midnight dark, Superman used the very current that had thrown him wounded and bleeding down into the depths as the means to return back to his own world.

-'S'-

The Sea Tiger launched a spread of torpedoes based on the trajectory of the Nazi craft. Explosions roared in the water ahead of her. Sending bass vibrations back to the pursuing boat.

In the clear nose section Diana stood with Oliver Queen, ahead of them in the darkness came the burst of light as explosives detonated, like stars ahead of them.

"They are bursting too soon." Queen stated. "Damn it, it's just as you thought Terry."

For a brief moment the flattened egg like shape of the enemy submersible was visible in the light of the explosions. Terry Sloane bit his lip and nodded, bounding up the steps to the command deck.

Diana's hunter's eye peered through the dark waters. In the distance she could see something larger still.

Above her she could hear the voices from the Sea Tigers bridge.

"SONAR." Captain Sherman asked. "What do you have?"

"Target is still running Sir."

"Damn." Holden cursed. "It's no good Sir- our fish can't stand the depth."

"We had to try." Sherman said.

"If we'd caught up to them sooner, engaged at lesser depth - then maybe things would be different." Terry Sloane said.

"That maybe." The Captain reflected. "But we're not done with these Pirates yet. We can at least try and see where they're going - there must be a reason for a dive like this." He turned back to the scope. "The Devil knows what it is though." The green cathode ray display blipped bright with the enemies sound trace.

It proved to be a stressful chase. All the while Diana understood the submarine's true abilities were being tested. Sloane and Queen remained confident that HiTAP could withstand the pressure of the increasing depth. She sensed the crew around her did not share his certainty. It was a journey into the unknown.

Time past. Heart beats were raised, cold sweat dripped from furrowed brows, and the tension did not ease, nor did Sherman give up the chase. Deeper plunged the Sea Tiger.

Then Diana saw it. Like a undersea nights sky, stars twinkling in the gloom.

"Oh my word." Oliver said as his human eyes spied what her Amazon senses had already detected. He turned and bounded up to the command deck.

"Captain Sherman I think you better come and look at this." Queen said as his head emerged above the steps from the observation room and into the Bridge.

Sherman looked at the industrialist playboy with a puzzled side ways glance, and moving athletically the salt and pepper haired Captain bounced over the handrail. He then slid down the steps to the windowed chamber.

"Davy Jones's locker that ain't" Sherman said as he stared out into the dark waters at the emerging shape in the distance. Rising from the sea was the startling silhouette of a city twinkling with lights like any modern day metropolis.

"I think Mr Queen that we've just discovered where the Nazi's are headed." Sherman said.

Diana knew this was the case, for sure enough she could see the vast enemy vessel swinging low over the city coming to rest against what to all intents and purposes was an undersea harbour for submersible craft.

"I think I've seen enough to know we are in very deep water." Oliver Queen said with a warm smile.

Diana could not decide whether he was brave or foolish. She watched as the Sherman hauled himself back up the steps to give the order to the helm to disengage. The Sea Tiger began to turn. It was then she sighted the army swimming at great speed from sunken city's port.

The Mer-Warriors powered towards the Submarine as the Sea Tiger turned. Like living torpedoes. Leading them Diana saw three Mer's carrying unique Tridents. Her Amazon culture brought with it unique knowledge, and the Princess of Themyscira recognised these shimmering spears. The tell tale luminescence marking them out. Diana recognised immediately that they differed from the simpler bladed weapons of the other swimmers. These were magical weapons of old, forged she remembered from Themyscira's historical records by Posideon's son Triton. Diana now knew with certainty as to where they were. The underwater city was the fabled Tritonis, and this American technological tour de force was about to meet with the magic of Olympus, and Diana knew which side would have the upper hand.

-'S'-

Aquaman tracked the Nazi Pirate Captain Black Jack Fange, or more correctly the living ocean did. The King of the Seas did not need to maintain a visual fix on the strange submersible, but instead was able to share the thoughts and therefore the complex and varied senses of the aquatic fauna around him. Through this interconnected network of living things the telepathic Aquatic Knight could place the Third Reich's submersible fortress.

Then came the sound of explosives, the shock waves of bass sound vibrating through the salt water to him. He had been watching the other submarine. It's sound and shape new were to him, and the seas. His suspicions were confirmed as this boat proved it was also hunting the larger craft. The explosions were ineffective, but from Aquaman's perspective they came at measurable cost. Sea life suffered, some died, many more were full of fear and terror, simple basic and instinctive reactions which were carried by the telepathic internetwork of the living sea, to it's King.

Aquaman kicked hard and the waters around him slipped past him, barely registering his passage, leaving no signature the Sea King invisibly sped on, an aquatic angel, free of friction and turbulence. A water-borne messenger of justice.

Moments later he had sight of both the vast Nazi boat, and her peruser, neither vessels surprised him, but what lay beneath them, that was a different matter. Aquaman came to an abrupt halt. Shock and surprise, mixed with awe and excitement. He could see the fabulous city, an aquatic capital, lit by countless lights. How he wondered, could it be that the ocean's fauna had not 'told' him of this place? This must be a lost colony of Atlantis, he reasoned – for it could be nothing else. This must be a lost colony of his kindred.

Then he saw the attacking army. Living torpedoes in the water. The fish tailed Mer's swimming forward, bursting forth from the city's towers, streaking outwards, thrashing through the water, and his heart sank. These water breathers were not like him. These merfolk were another race altogether, and one clearly bent on war.

His heart sank further as he realised their target was not the Nazi submarine, that had been welcomed, but the smaller American boat.

Aquaman watched as the whale like vessel turned in the water, it's strangely smooth hull glistening in the lights of the city.

Then he saw the first of the Mermen strike it. Their General wielded a shimmering Trident.

Again for Arthur the outcome was unexpected. Rather than metal grating against metal, the three pronged weapon tore into the American Submarine as if it were a tin can under the blade of an opener. It was incredible and dreadful to see the once perfect craft pierced, bleeding black oil into the water. He had no idea how something as simple as a Trident could open up a the hull of a submarine, but that was exactly what the Sea King had seen.

Aquaman knew at this depth the American vessel, and her crew, had no chance now the hull was breached. So it was that fate tipped his hand, and the die was cast. Atlantean's or not, the Mer's had sided with the Nazi's and Aquaman made his choice. The Swimmer charged toward the Mer's leaders, those men who wielded the shimmering Tridents.

-'S'-

Doctor Fate swept forward ahead of Bart Regan's team his light drenched form like a burnished gold torch. Illuminating caverns that bore signs of modern usage, steel and concrete fittings, heavy iron doors. Even signs printed in English.

Regan's team had arrived in the chambers that constituted the lost lair of the Ultra Humanite under the Los Angeles Hills.

It was the Magic Master that first encountered the Annunki horde. Coming from all sides these fleeting shapes leapt unannounced from the shadows. Rising from stone floor, morphing it seemed from stone one moment, to living creatures the next.

Fate loosed from his hands flaming ankh's of lightening. Caught surprised the Magic Master recognised why this had happened. Fate sensed the faint signature of old magic. It could only mean that an artefact of great power belonging to the former aeon, the age of the elder gods, was in the hands of the Ultra Humanite. Kent Nelson, Archaeologist, Historian, Classicist, knew only one Weapon of Magical Domination, that could have both concealed these shape shifting chameleon Annunki soldiers, and the hand that controlled them, from the all seeing eye of the Helm of Nabu and the emblematic Amulet of Anubis.

Vainly Fate used all his prescience to search this hidden lair for the Helm of Hades. A cap of invisibility used by the Shadow-god decisively in the War of the Titans. Victory over the elder gods had brought to power Zeus as King in Olympus, Posideon as Lord of the Seas, and Hades as King of the Underworld. Used again by the goddess Athena against Ares in the Trojan wars, the Helm of Darkness clothed the wearer in an undetectable mist, and in the hands of Mage, was able to do much more. Legend told the Helm had been lost by the mortal Perseus in his quest to slay the Gorgon Medusa.

Logic told Doctor Fate that Hepheastus in his earth bound form must have recovered this lost artefact of power. Transparently the Helm had now fallen into the hands of this alter ego reborn.

Around about him the hordes of screeching reptilian warriors, the chameloid Naga attacked with tooth and claw, as much with their chemically powered weapons – strange metallic rifles, that spat and popped accidic projectiles hissing in the air. A chimeric mix of man, bird and reptile, with wide opal eyes burning bright in featureless faces divided by a wide mouth filled with needle like teeth. Crested by fine downy feathers like hair. Flocking like birds around a fallen fruit, these Soldiers of the Annunki raked the fiery light that shielded the Master of Magic. Doctor Fate's power roared into the darkness sending the Narga sprawling away from him, carried by ankh shaped bursts of energy. However as quickly as he dislodged them, more seemed to flow forward, washing forward indistinct in the magical cloaking mist of the Helm of Shadows, becoming visible only in the magic light of the Helm of Nabu.

Behind him guns barked and snapped as Bart Regan, Slam Bradley, Stars and Stripes, Tex Thompson and the Mighty Atom answered the lizard men's attack in kind.

Into the chaos emerged the Ultra Humanite. Divested of godly character, this ghost had chosen a form of feminine loveliness as camouflage, to deceive, and corrupt.

Fate could see the outline of the mystic cap of invisibility interrupting the aura of Ultra's form. He saw the ghost for what it was, a spirit. Neither male nor female, this angel of death inhabited a iron golem. A mechanism of magic with a furnace in it's belly full of infernal fire.

Beneath her cloak rose another concealed figure. Terry Curtis.

"Cyclotron – engage." Utlra said, and Cyclotron nee Curtis complied.

Fate felt the blast of energy strike him with the force of an atomic wrecking ball. It took all his power to constrain the explosive force. Had he not the Magic Master had no doubt they all would have been consumed, that the hidden city of the Lizard men would have filled with fire, and in the heat it would have been destroyed. Fate had no idea how the scientist had become so powerful, but he also recognised this was a power distinct from magic. It was not of old, but something new, it was the power of a new age that was in the midst of the terrible world wide conflict being forged by men of science as they struggled to harness the power of the Atom.

Binding the force into his light he held it fast discharging it far away from the earthly realms of men into the wastelands of the Ethereal. It was in this moment of great concentration, as he saved them all, that the Narga's poisonous gases assailed him. Valiantly he held on - holding his breath, as the cloud of bitter vapour enveloped him, but the acidic poison seeped into his skin. Distraction and confusion, this had been the game. His foe had counted on his goodness, knowing Fate would act to save them all – even these reptilian savages. Ultra had gambled everyone, knowing once Doctor Fate was forced to contain the deadly explosion, he would be left exposed. As Fate gasped his last breath of consciousness he realised this must have been the Ultra Humanite's plan all along. That this the Battle for Los Angeles above in the skies, and all that had followed had simply been an elaborate trap, and Ultra's trap had sprung, capturing them all.


	68. Chapter 68

1942 part 6

The Sea Tiger staggered in the water, throwing it's crew to port as she lurched wounded. Diana Prince fell through the open hatch in a deliberate move that sent her pirouetting into the engine room. The heart of the submarine was filling with water.

"Looks like we're done for." Bob Crane said.

His colleague Charles Grayson nodded, in front of them array of lights flickered, going from green to red, indicating where their unique robotic system was sealing the wounded sections of the boat. The submarine's pressure doors shutting automatically. Across from Crane and Grayson's station the engines still ran, tended by the ever watchful Roy 'Speedy' Harper. Behind him the sea water was fast encroaching, lapping his feet and at the diesel motors deck mounts, pouring in through a gash in the hull. A razor thin cut, but it was enough at this depth and at this pressure to be lethal, even given the unique properties of Queen Industry's HiTAP material.

Behind her Diana heard the door to this section whirr shut under hydraulic pressure, closing even as she shot through the opening a blur of colour - spinning as she did so. When her feet touched the smooth plastic surface of the deck Prince's dark brown practical shoes had been replaced by deep red boots, with a single white line detailing from front to back. Wonder Woman assessed the situation. Speedy Harper was now fighting through the ice cold water towards the breach with what appeared to be a grease gun in his hand, but the pressure and pace of the incoming sea made his task impossible.

"Wonder Woman." He gasped in equal measures of surprise and relief. "Have to mend the breach." He said through gritted teeth.

"How?"

"I could, with this filler." He replied. "If the water wasn't coming fast." If I try and use this HiTAP paste it'll get blown out long before it has chance to harden."

Diana grasped his meaning. She looked at the breached hull of the Sea Tiger and a unique strategy came to her mind.

-'S'-

Aquaman powered into the trident wielding Trio, using his body like a quarter staff the aquatic speeder rolled into them, body, legs and arms striking, sending them tumbling away from the American submarine. His gambit succeeded.

Their fiendishly sharp weapons were turned toward him, they could not wreck further damage upon the stricken boat, at least as long as Aquaman stood between them and the listing submarine.

Driven back by the concussive force of the seas fastest swimmer, the Merman tails frantically slapped the water desperately trying to gain purchase. Aquaman did not let them recover. Instead pressing home his advantage. Diving and ducking as their magical weapons swept past him in an attempt to end him, but the King of the Seas had seen more than enough. He was not complacent. He guessed that if these sharp edged spears could open up a vessel able to withstand such depths, they would in all likelihood be equally deadly to him.

To his right one of the Merman lunged, the spear tips stabbing at where the Swimmer had been. Aquaman grabbed the trident's shaft as it passed him by. The Sea King's speed snapping him aside and away from the killer strike. Locking his legs around the surprised warriors head he wrenched the weapon from his hands. The Mer reacted with his powerful tail as they wrestled over the Trident, and striking blind he made contact with the enchanted barbs. Aquaman somersaulted carrying between his thighs the head of the Merman, before releasing the wounded warrior, sending him falling away. Blood spilling into the sea, pumping from deep self inflicted gashes in his lower body. The King of the Seas knew it was a siren call, and he heard in his mind the instinctive thoughts of the denizens of the deep. They could taste blood in the water. Screaming in the dark the aquatic warrior sank away from him.

"Son of Posideon!" The larger of the two remaining Trident wielding warriors bellowed. His face contorted in anger. "You should not have interfered with the business of Tritonis." Around him his other followers gathered, their clubs lacked the mirrored finish of his and his lieutenants weapons. Still Arthur imagined they were ugly enough to get the job done, even if not as special as the three pointed spear he had captured.

"I am Akthar." Their General told him. "I am King of Tritonis – How dare you defy me!"

"How can you side with Nazi Pirates?" Aquaman replied, his accent faltering, he had only read the old language of Atlantis, and this Akthar spoke a version of it – one close enough so he could understand.

"Why would a lost son of Atlantis, of our lost brothers from Posideonis attack his own kind?"

"See his hair my Lord." Said Akthar's companion.

"Ah. Of course, he is cursed with the madness of Kordax. I am surprised they did not expose you to the air at birth. How is it the sons of Posideonis let you live?"

"Where are they now?" Another called, as the body of Mer-Warriors thronged closer, suddenly the submarine seemed much less important to them – Arthur realised he was now the centre of their attention.

"Aye." Shouted a third. "Where is Posideonis."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Arthur responded. "What is this business about exposing babies to the air. I am the son of an aquatic explorer. I can breathe both above and below the sea."

"That is impossible." One of the group shouted.

"Hush." Akthar shouted. Taking control of the rabble around him. To Arthur he said. "Perhaps you speak the truth legged stranger. Or perhaps you are Kordax reborn." He laughed. "Truth will out for there is blood in the water, and the beasts of the deep come."

Aquaman looked down at the depths. He could see the creatures Akthar spoke of rising. A strange school of forms, coming upwards, vast squid, huge octopus, and great serpent like beasts. Monstrous fish, and enormous sharks.

Instinctively the Sea King began by reaching out with his mind. He sought to identify their intent, to guide them away. Yes Arthur heard their thoughts. They had sensed the blood, but yet this instinctive desire was not at the forefront of their minds. Instead there was something louder, something more powerful rising screaming loudly above these natural urges to hunt and feed. Aquaman heard the sound. A piercing whistle screaming through his thoughts, like a harpies song it reached into the depths of his consciousness inflaming his anger, his rage, inciting blood lust.

Aquaman shook his head, holding his ears with his hands. Through the pain he could still hear Akthar and his Warriors.

"Akthar." Said the King's lieutenant. "He hears Black Jack's call."

Akthar nodded. "It is as I thought, he possesses the witching way – speaks the secret sounds of the vital salt water. He is an heir of Kordax, whether he knows it or not.

"It is a shame to kill a child of power – but your own people would treat you no differently." Akthar said to Arthur as he struggled.

Akthar raised his Trident with lazy but lethal intent. Aquaman saw his enemy could bide his time, thinking to himself through the agony in his mind, that he was caught, like a fish in a net, trapped by the mesmerising sound of the call to arms from... Aquaman pieced together the truth. The sound came from Black Jakob Fange. This strange psychic music had a source and it was the great Nazi sub. It was all he could do to keep his sanity. All his self control not to swim towards the American Sub and obey the Nazi's command to tear it to shreds. For that was the music's sole intent, and so it was the stricken boat that the creatures of the deep meant to attack.

The Trident of Akthar glistening with preternatural sharpness came toward the agonised Swimmer, as the long attacking tentacles of a Gigantic Squid reached for the listening American Submarine.

-'S'-

Kent Nelson found the world coming back into focus, no longer joined with the expanded consciousness that was integral to the helm of Nabu, it was a much smaller world. Kent felt bindings biting into his wrists and ankles. Eyes open he saw his lounge suit was venom stained with dark corroded patches and marked by dirt from the rocky floor. Under his clothes his muscles ached, and he was certain that should he get the chance to check himself over he'd find plenty of bruises. His captors had not been gentle.

The Narga reptilian warriors had brought him and the rest of Bart Regan's team deeper into the Ultra Humanites bunker proper.

Here all semblance of the lost city was gone, in it's place was a modernist vision in concrete and steel. The equipment arrays reminded him of some Saturday serials vision of the future, crossed with Frankenstein's laboratory. Kent's understanding came from his memories of Fate's visions of past present and future. He knew full well that the science fused with old magic practised here was not far removed from Mary Shelley's account of the mad Baron.

Around him and very much like him, lay his colleagues bound and subdued, unconscious sprawled on the ground. Regan, Bradley, Pratt, Thompson, Pemberton and Dugan. His friends were still insensible from the Narga's venom. All of them trussed up like so much captured game. Nelson kept his own head down, keeping his movements small enough to go unnoticed, and he watched.

Something had awakened him. His ability to bond with the Helmet of Nabu was a biological one, and that inborn sensitivity to the ethereal powers of magic had been exercised – strengthened, by exposure to his alter ego, the great force of nature that was Doctor Fate, a consciousness in common with the ancient Wizard Nabu. Kent Nelson still had enough magic in him naturally to recognise what that something was.

A great double doored portal stood in the heart of the room. Made of black iron wrought with silver finials on top of fluted columns surrounded the paired iron slabs, bearing the first and the last letter of the Greek Alphabet respectively. Alpha and Omega in bright silver against the black iron metal, it shimmered mercurial and alive with raw ancient magic. The doors parted revealing an opening through time and space. Nelson had learned of such short cuts through the universe as a boy in Egypt, as an acolyte of Nabu. His apprenticeship before rising to the mantle of Doctor Fate.

Before this Gateway, standing in front of this crackling black darkness was the Ultra Humanite. A purple head band adorned her head, matching billowing silk robes, tassels flapping around her neck, as her long hair was whipped by the turbulent air that scattered from the chasms mystical energy. Like her flawless face this mane was a falsehood, her human form in reality a magical mechanism of iron and fire wrought into a mirror image of a living woman.

The Lizard Luthor strode from the darkness. From the midst of the open portal – the fugitive killer emerged. Deep in his breast throbbed the pulsating power of a blood stone, powerful magic that had opened and sustained this bridge between disparate localities.

With him walked two cyclop eyed admantine automatons. Servants of the Ultra Humanite. One carried the slumped form of the Sandman, the other dragged in each hand the equally insensible Crimson Avenger and his partner Wing.

Seeing these fellow hero's confirmed something at least, the Lizard Luthor had used the Power Stone to travel across America from New York to Los Angeles. Behind these metal mobile manikins the magic portal closed. Sealed once again by black iron. Smoke rose from the shimmering Alpha and Omega symbols.

"Welcome." The Ultra Humanite said. "I see you have brought with you some more test subjects."

Kent Nelson stomach lurched. Fate's visions now like remembered dreams to his human mind were confirmed.

"Put them over there with the others." The mechanism with the face and figure of the movie star purred.

The automatons obeyed their master. "You came earlier than I expected. I was still tidying up." Ultra added.

Kent recognised a sick joke. He and his friends were the mess to which the lady referred.

Lizard Luthor walked across the expanse of the room, pausing to look at them, captured and bound.

"He did not come?" Lizard Luthor asked. His haughty jowls wobbled as he spoke.

"Superman did not come to Los Angeles." The Ultra Humanite shrugged. "It was unexpected – the display I arranged certainly gained the attention of American Government, but not their champion. However vengeance can wait, and see - I have collected the Helm of Nabu as conciliation." The Ultra Humanite gestured to her left.

Kent winced as the Lizard Luthor's eyes strayed to where the golden helm lay, resting on a pedestal like a common trophy. There was evident lust in the lingering look the bald creature spent on the shining face of Doctor Fate.

"Can we open the portal to Venturia?" Lizard Luthor asked, turning to face the pretty young woman who was not what she appeared.

"You are in a hurry to complete your mission."

"Of course. My masters are anxious to be reunited with their kinsmen and their allies."

"Indeed." Ultra agreed. "It has been many many centuries. Let us not keep them waiting."

She moved to a control console that stood out among the assembled machines and apparatus. Turning the dials on the panel in front of her the Ultra Humanite brought into focus an image on what had been to all intents and purposes a smooth white wall.

Kent Nelson strained to see it, whilst remaining unseen himself.

Upon it there was now darkness, which shifted greying and taking on shape and form, then Nelson witnessed a startling sight. The darkness of water, the undersea scene exposed a vast floating city, and before it a large submersible craft. Shaped like a flattened egg.

The Ultra Humanite identified it. "I see the Kraken has already arrived."

Luthor grinned. "Of course. The Third Riech is nothing if not dependable." He tapped his chest where the blood stone shone. "If you are able to carry out your part of our bargain, then the Kraken will be able to complete her mission."

The Ultra Humanite laughed. It was a woman's laugh – almost girl like, light and yet at the same time menacing. "Of course." Removing her head band she exposed her forehead. There embedded was a blood stone, twinkling like a red star – bright with raw magic and power.

"I have in my possession the Blood Stone Zeus used that day to put in place the first of three magic seals, liberated long ago from Temple of Zeus at Olympia, where it adorned the fourth Wonder of the World."

"And I have my own power stone. Used by Posideon, to place the second seal over Venturia." The Lizard Luthor tapped his chest again. "As you know discovered by the Lord Byron in the Temple of Sea-god at Sounion."

The Ultra Humanite laughed. "What a joy it was to meet a man with such an appetite for life. He and the Shelley's on Lake Geneva - the Baron Frankenstein was always such a generous and gentile host." She reminisced.

"That maybe. What of the third stone. Hilter invaded Greece in order to secure it's retrieval but the vault of the Temple at Elis was empty. Even the Annunki feared it had been lost forever."

"The Blood Stone of Hades," Ultra nodded "fell into the hands of some one we are both well acquainted with." Turning to the door into the chamber she beckoned to an unseen presence.

"I think you remember your former accomplice – one Terrance Curtis, who has taken the more ambiguous title of Cyclotron.

"I thought you dead. Killed when the LAZER gun exploded under Barrow Ridge?" Luthor snapped.

"I was as good as dead, but the stone we used to focus the weapon fused itself to me, rebuilt me in it's own image, in atomic fire."

Lizard Luthor laughed comprehending what must have happened. It was a hollow sound and full of regret and frustration. "So that was the reason for it's great energies!" He shook his head. "I did wonder, but I am first a man of science, not of sorcery – I was not able to magically divine it's origin, beyond the fact of course that it was a Blood Stone of great power."

The bald man's eyes flashed angrily between the movie star features of Ultra and grave face of Curtis. Nelson saw resentment in the stocky man's expression. Lizard Luthor clearly felt cheated.

"And I only recognised it's true nature when I returned." Ultra said. Hesitating for a moment as if reluctant to think about that detail of her existence. "It was shortly after this – that I found Curtis lived, that he had become Cyclotron." Ultra responded with a gentle smile. Nelson believed the strange but beautiful creature was trying to appease her equally strange but ugly ally.

Ultra continued saying. "But such is the mystery at the heart of my work. The uncovering of long lost items of power is fraught with danger because so much history and knowledge of the Old Magic has been lost."

"You mean what exactly." Lizard Luthor demanded.

Ultra smiled graciously. "If had not been for this... shall we say unfortunate explosion – this accident that created Cyclotron, even I, like both you and your Anunnki friends - would have not been able to recognise this power stone as the true lost Blood Stone of Hades."

"For why? What was it?"

"A spell of concealment. Old magic perhaps cast by the god of the underworld himself. In any event the energies that were released under Barrow Ridge undid it, and so revealed the last of the three Key-Power Stones." Ultra gestured for Curtis to approach closer still. "At the same time this explosion of atomic forces accidentally empowered our loyal servant."

Luthor's eyes narrowed.

The once human scientist joined them. His shoulders bowed, and his steps carrying all the uncertainty of a reluctant man on his last walk to the gallows. He stood beside Ultra, at her other hand came the Lizard Luthor. Each took their allotted place in front of the doors of the magic portal. Kent Nelson saw that once again its mercurial symbols came alive, reacting to this unholy trinity of Power Stones, glowing with ethereal fire.

Ultra turned to the bald man saying.

"With these three stones reunited I will be able to lift the seal on the portal to Venturia. Once this is done the Kraken will be able to take Black Jackob Fange to the lost world of Venturia – both the Nazi's and your own people objectives - Shape Shifter, will be realised."

"Then do it." Lizard Luthor snapped.

"Very well." Ultra turned to the great Iron doors and extending her hands they burst open once more. Once more the air in the room became frantic a gale whipping around the portal, both Luthor and Curtis shuddered as from the open darkness green lightening crackled between the three figures and the void. Like human Telsa coils they energy snapped around them, and back into the door way. A sound like thunder reverberated around them. Everything Nelson had learned and understood cried out to him – this was wrong, so very wrong. Kent threw caution to the wind, and he began trying to stir his friends. It was then that the fiery eye of the two Automaton guards turned to stare at him.

-'S'-

Superman rose from the Pit of Doom into the ocean as he slowed he released his cape, and the stretched material snapped back to it's more usual dimensions, at the same time he released Kruella and King Antonis. They swam clear, and like him looked up at their home. Above them hovered the great city of Tritonis, bound together and floating at great depth, a singular construct of metropolitan proportions. The city had risen from the sea bed revealing beneath it the transdimensionsal door way beneath.

Superman saw that all of sudden the Pit of Doom was no longer dark, but awash with light. Purple and green flares, and golden fire. Superman had seen this magic before. This Portal between worlds was fully open.

Above him a vast submersible craft was descending from the city. Superman could see it's shape and form, further he could see deep inside it, and to his horror he recognised the symbols and rank of the Nazi's.

Further above him still, beyond Tritonis was another stricken submersible, unlike any he had seen before, the smooth shark shaped vessel was being attacked by a Gigantic Squid, it's long arms reaching for the hull. Around it sharks almost as large as the boat swam. Again Superman recognised it's country of origin. His own.

He had to make a choice, it was of course one of action.


	69. Chapter 69

1942 part 7

Superman tore past the suspended aquatic metropolis toward the Sea Tiger, deviating at the last moment the Man of Steel like a torpedo exploded between Akthar and the man in golden orange and green. This time Superman used both speed and caution, grabbing the magical Trident from the hands of self appointed King of Tritonis. At the same time the violence of his passage sent waves of water crashing into the assembled throng of Mer-Warriors under Aktha's thrall, this rabble fell back washed away by Superman's wake.

Akthar thrashed his tail vainly as the turbulence swept him away, as Superman took his magical weapon from his hands. Once bitten, twice shy, the Man of Steel wasn't going to permit these mystical weapons near him again.

Superman turned seeing the aquatic man ride out his wake, even though like Akthar he was at the heart of Superman's backwash, this man was unmoved by it. He didn't have a tail, he wasn't so obviously adapted to life under the water, and yet he evidently the Mer's superior. It was as if the sea recognised him as her master. As if water could not hold him back. This had to be the aquatic-superman Clark Kent had been told about, the scourge of Nazi's wolf-packs in the Atlantic War.

Trident in hand Superman did not hesitate, he looked down seeing Akthar sinking, fighting to find a purchase in the angry sea. The Pretender had been swept back towards Tritonis. The Man of Tomorrow, estimated the magic Tridents weight, he accounted for the physical properties of the deep sea, before hurling the magical spear.

The Trident flew through water. Akthar gasped as the weapon whisked past him, and continued to sink losing speed as the water friction slowed the three pronged spear, just as Superman had calculated. By the time the Trident reached King Antonis the older Merman was able to catch it easily into his hands, and with a powerful twitch of his tail the old aquatic warrior drove upwards to confront his rebellious Marshal.

Superman had already moved onto the next split second choice. He was glad that whatever malady had afflicted the golden orange and green clad aquatic man had past, for this man took hold of his purloined weapon and swept forward towards the third Trident wielding Mer with speed equal to, if not greater than Superman's. The Man of Tomorrow marvelled at how the water seemed to part to let him pass, his wake was next to non existent. Superman used his power to plough through the water to achieve velocity, this aquatic-man did not. There was however no time to pause and stare. Split seconds of time passing as Superman powered on, the water boiling around him as he swam.

Above them the Sea Tiger lurched as long tentacled arms from a Gigantic Squid grasped at the smooth plastic like surface.

Swarming up from the depths followed a legion of monsters summoned from the Pit. The abyssal giants swam towards the American Submarine, but as the Squid attacked the vessel vanished.

For a split second Superman thought some magic had spirited the craft away, but then he saw it was magic, but of another kind. He had witnessed this illusion before, and the Man of Tomorrow smiled. His heart leapt, because he had recognised the signature presence of a friend.

Superman could see that the Gigantic Squid had it's long sucker and clawed arms wrapped around something – and that something was invisible. The monster held onto an invisible form. This transparency occupied the same space as the suddenly absent Sea Tiger. Superman's preternatural senses ranged far beyond the normal, and he was able to see the shape left by the displaced water. Superman reached out to take hold of the monstrous invertebrates arm. He saw that the Squid embraced a vessel even more aquiline than the vanished submersibles already hydrodynamic shape. The reason for this marvel was revealed as the invisible boat turned, riding as if atop some great whale, was Wonder Woman. She stood tall, leaning back her hand grasping her lariat as a rider might her reigns. Superman tore the Squid free, ink blackness spread around him. Great Sharks from another era thrashed in the blackness.

Superman guessed at what Diana must have done.

She had control of this invisible submersible for around the nose of the craft ran her golden lasso. Superman had ridden with Wonder Woman in her invisible plane, and he knew this remarkable mechanism was more than a magical aircraft. The gift of Hermes, his winged sandals, took the appropriate form of the moment, and here the Talaria had encased the American Submarine as it were the foot of a giant god of old. Hermes winged sandal encased the Sea Tiger within its magical invisible bounds. The other remained with Diana, wrapping her in an invisible protective bubble, enabling the Princess of Themyscira to travel even here.

-'S'-

Aquaman's head was still ringing from the shrill call of Black Jacob Fange's demonic device, the siren song the Nazi Pirate used to summon these abyssal giants, yet the Swimmer had more pressing worries. He surged forward, wrestling his mind back from the enemies hypnotic call. Aquaman sought out Akthar's second lieutenant.

Arthur had recognised the signature colours of the legendary Superman. How the Metropolis Marvel had come to this place he had no idea, but his sudden appearance, the impact of his wake, had been the shock that the Sea King required to shake him free from the unexpected psychic attack. Superman had disarmed Akthar and sent him and his lieutenant tumbling down away from him and the submarine.

Freed to act Aquaman saw that Akthar could wait. There remained a third magic Trident in the hands of one of the Tritons. Superman had delivered Akthar's weapon to another older Merman, who Arthur judged must be an ally. He still carried the one he had taken.

As Aquaman swam to him, Akthar's loyal Warrior wielded his magic spear with practised confidence. It was a demonstration of bravado. Arthur saw it as such, and let his opponent stab first, as in a duel, trusting in his great speed, and he was quickly vindicated. Counter thrusting Aquaman caught his opponents triple barbs interlocked with his. Then using the Mer's own strength, weight and momentum he wrenched the enemy towards him. Kicking out Aquaman struck the Triton hard in the solar plexus region where scales met skin. The Mer buckled. His tail came up and Aquaman stretched out a fist, and his blow found the Merman's chin. Arthur took his enemies weapon from the stunned Warriors hands. He then turned to face the rabble and their leader Akthar, a magic trident in each fist. Above him he knew the Metropolis Superman was engaging the creatures who were being controlled by the song from the Nazi vessel. Facing the ranked Mermen, he roared his challenge holding forth his captured Tridents in defiance of them all.

"Hold fast." A voice bellowed in the old language. "All of you."

Aquaman turned to see the older Merman, Superman's erstwhile ally, swimming from the depths, with him came a flame headed female.

"King Atonis! It cannot be." A voice from the rabble of Mer-Warrors called out into the deep.

"No one returns from the Pit of Doom." Another added. Other agreed "It cannot be!" Yet more gasped. "Antonis." Others said "Princess Kruella."

"I have this day." Atonis said. "I have escaped the Certain Death." He pointed his magic shining Trident at these Mer's. "And so has my daughter. I swim here free. By all that is holy, we have returned from the Pit, there is no clearer proof that all your Princess told you about the Pretender Akthar's perfidy was the truth. That it is Akthar who bargains with warring Surfacers to bring about the downfall of Tritonis, and that the one called Superman is a true friend of our people.

Looking up Aquaman saw the Man of Steel at work, like an underwater typhoon, sending the monsters of the deep swimming scared. Huge Squid cast away like pebbles, gigantic Sharks from the prehistoric past despatched with a solid blow to the nose. Despite the music coming from Black Jack huge U-boat instructing them to attack, the creatures instinct for self preservation was winning out. Aquaman could hear in his mind that at the same time this strange whistling music was becoming fainter. Unsurprising he considered, as its source the large submersible vessel dove away from the city, descending into the pit, so relinquishing it's hold on the beasts.

"Who gave the Nazi's the secret sounds of the vital salt water." Aquaman asked. He looked at the Pretender Akthar. "Who gave them the siren call to command the monsters of the deep?"

The Princess Kruella, the pretty red headed Mermaid spoke. "It is true father." She said to the older man who Arthur now realised was Tritonis's true King. "I can hear the sound in my mind – albeit fainter now, commanding them to attack the smaller surfacer's boat." Pointing to the pit which had swallowed the large U-boat. "The music comes from the larger vessel – from Akthar's allies."

King Atonis howled. "Akthar! How could you?"

Aquaman watched as the tables turned on the Merman called Akthar, even those Mer-Warriors who had been loyal to the Pretender, following him in the attack on the American Submarine now looked on both shocked and appalled. It took no special knowledge to guess that Akthar had broken a sacred trust, betrayed a special secret.

"So I bought our security – ensure the secret location of Tritonis remained a secret..."

"Secret – how is then two vessels from the Surface come to our city?" Antonis demanded.

Akthar's face betrayed him. Panicked he shook his head. "I cannot say. The Surfacer Kruella brought to us must have called them."

Atonis laughed. "The same Surfacer – Superman, who fights against the monsters of the deep summoned by your allies? It was these Nazi's that sent the monsters to attack both him and the other Surfacer vessel."

Among the Mer's there was laughter. It was a key moment. Atonis seized it. He swam forward. Akthar bridled, puffing out his chest, but the older man held his reclaimed magical Trident between them, and it's points resting on the other man's chest. Akthar face was taught with anger and malice. Antonis then snatched the crown of Tritonis from Akthar's head. In a flash Aquaman reacted, grabbing Akthar's arm as the maddened Pretender tried to strike his King. Trying to impale himself on the magically sharp barbs of the three pointed spear. As the Swimmer dragged Akthar away, the older man placed the golden ring on his head. To Aquaman he said.

"Son of Posideonis, your kin of Tritonis owe you a debt of thanks."

Aquaman nodded, he did not feel this the time or place to question the title Antonis had used.

The King tested his re-established authority. "Take Akthar to the city, and bind him in irons." He commanded the armed mob.

From their number emerged men willing to act. Their King acknowledged them. Roughly they grabbed Akthar, taking him from Aquaman. Others quickly seized the Pretender's remaining Lieutenant.

"King Antonis!" Superman said arriving beside them. Behind him came a very beautiful woman, she rode something transparent, something displacing the water like a great fish. Then before their eyes the American Submarine reappeared in that void.

A casual sideways glance told Aquaman that the gash in the vessels hull had been repaired. He could see the lines where the magic Trident had opened the sub up, but these were now sealed. A remarkable achievement in itself he thought.

"Sire where does the Pit of Doom lead?" Superman asked the Mer King.

"I fear I know." The raven haired beauty said as she joined them. She moved as if protected by an impervious bubble that clung to her like a second skin, following even the movement of her long flowing hair. She seemed to hold the submarine in her thrall by virtue of a golden rope, a lasso that encircled it. "Below I wager lays the Portal to Venturia – but why the Nazi's wish to travel to the lost realm I can only guess."

"She speaks the truth." Antonis stated. "We of Tritonis were charged by Triton, who was commanded by his father Posideon to guard the Portal for all time."

"Wonder Woman what is your guess?" Superman asked. "What do the Nazi seek this time?"

Aquaman swam forward to the Man of Steel. "I was told they seek Posideon's Trident."

"Great Hera!" Wonder Woman said. She turned to Superman. "That Kal was my worst fear."

To the Swimmer she said. "You are the one the Newspapers are calling the legendary Aquatic-superman - Aquaman?"

Arthur nodded.

Wonder Woman glided over to him. "I saw reports of one wearing the colours of Posideonis fighting the Nazi's but I didn't quite believe it." Arthur wondered why she would say that. She held out her hand. "I am Diana of Themyscira."

"I am called Arthur." He replied taking it. "But I don't know about this Posidenis, although these colours," he pointed to his chest, "this armour – it is from Atlantis." Aquaman told her. "My father was a famous undersea explorer. His greatest discovery was an ancient city, a submerged fragment of lost Atlantis. These clothes came from that place."

"How are you able to do what you do?" Superman asked him.

"My father studied their wisdom. I believe he used power of the sea to make me wonderfully strong and swift - a human being who lives and thrives under the water."

"Believe?" The Man of Tomorrow asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I never knew him, I'm not sure what happened to us. It remains a mystery I have yet to solve."

"What of your mother?" Diana asked.

"My mother died when I was a baby, so my father wrote in his journal."

"I understand." Wonder Woman said. "You don't remember any of this yourself."

"Yes." Aquaman agreed. "My earliest memory is swimming with a pod of dolphins, who raised me - as crazy as that sounds."

"No." Diana said. "It is not crazy, dolphins are both clever and able to show great compassion. I hear truth in what you say, but also uncertainty – but you cannot know for sure what happened to you as a baby, since you were orphaned so very young."

"I can remember swimming with the dolphins, then a Seaman found me and adopted me. I was still but a boy, and hungry to learn. He taught me English, tutored me." Athur shrugged, as much to say this is a long story made very short. "So now I fight the Nazi's because I believe very much in democracy and freedom."

Superman offered him his hand too. "I can only thank you for that." He said. "I am..."

"Superman." Arthur said. "I know." He smiled. "You don't remember – but we have met already."

"We have?" Superman asked. Surprise registered on his face.

"I found you in the depths of Atlantic closest to Ireland than anywhere. So I brought your body to the nearest beach and into the air. I figured that was where you would recover fastest."

"I remember that beach well enough." Superman replied. "I clearly owe you a debt thanks personally, as well as an American for your work in the Atlantic." He paused and continued. "Tell me Arthur, Diana. What is the Trident of Posideon – well, beyond the obvious?"

Arthur answered. He felt compelled to. "This may sound crazy again to you, but the Wizard Merlin appeared to me and told me that the Nazi's sought the Trident."

Superman nodded his face serious. "No, not crazy." Superman said. "I am friends with a man who goes by the name of the Shining Knight, his magic comes from the legendary Merlin. The sorcerer's power lives on in him, it does not surprise me therefore that Merlin lives on as well."

Aquaman continued. "Merlin told me they seek this god-forged weapon, because it magically controls all water, both in the air, in liquid from, or as ice."

"That is true, at least according to the Amazon's histories." Diana agreed. "I was told that Posideon's Trident was hidden away, and I fear it makes sense that it would be hidden in Venturia, since the misuse of that power led to the drowning of the continent of Atlantis, and the creation of this lost realm."

"What?" Superman clearly grasped the implication. "This magical weapon can drown a continent?"

"It can remake the face of the Earth." Diana replied. "Wash it away as if a continent never existed."

Aquaman concluded saying. "A continent like North America."

-'S'-

Greg Sanders had left his very special custom Indian motorcycle long ago, parked in the alleyway back of North Hill Street. He had left the Plains Troubadour further behind still. A do-not-disturb sign hung on the handle of his hotel room door, he hoped it would be enough. Centuries of skill honed on the wide plains of the west, learned by Sander's grandfather from native American trackers had been transferred to the enclosed spaces of New York's concrete jungle, and now put to work here in the even more enclosed tunnels of the subterranean city. Here in the dark lit by his military torch the Vigilante wearing his signature blue cavalry style shirt, and red neckerchief followed the disturbed dust, the signs of Bart Regan's A-Teams escape into the Los Angeles underground.

-'S'-

The Lizard Luthor and the Ultra Humanite entered the open portal to the mysterious destination the former had spoken of in awed tones; Venturia. Kent Nelson watched as first the unnatural woman entered the vortex, accompanied by the stocky bald shape shifter. Following Lizard Luthor ran the Annunki Narga. These were the same warriors that had captured him and the others, now they joined him passing through the interdimensional gate.

Above Nelson stood the Ultra Humanite's silent sentinels. The Cyclops eyed automatons watched him and his companions. Time passed. They seemed aware he was conscious, but were content to observe, albeit with implied menace, showing no interest him him provided his movements remained small. Then as his comrades also began to stir, awakening from the venom induced sleep too, this change seemed to be a cue of sorts because one of the mechanical guards acted. The automaton bent down and starting with him. Mechanical hands snatched Kent Nelson from the floor of the concrete bunker. It was a process the machine would repeat until the last man remained.

Kent watched as the machine deposited each of them. Following him came Slam Bradley, Pat Dugan, then Regan and Pemberton, lastly came the second Automaton carrying Tex Thompson.

Each time the heavy metal door swung open the fiery light of the Cyclops eyes washed the stark space with its red orange light, one of their number was added. then the door would close and there would be darkness again. In these brief periods of fleeting illumination Nelson saw someone slumped in the corner of the cell. First catching sight of the red and yellow primary colours of a bright costume, then later he saw a second crouched figure, his dark cloak making him next to invisible.

Only when it became clear to this shadow hidden man that the machines were not coming back did he speak.

-'S'-


	70. Chapter 70

1942 part 8

Aboard the Sea Tiger a council of War was convened. Superman watched as Atonis emerged from the Air lock walking after a fashion. Captain Sherman had delegated this role to the Man of Steel. He was to welcome the Mer King. Superman realised he was now representing more than truth and justice, but also his country, the American way. He stood in his capacity as an Officer of the Justice Battalion, instituted and appointed by Presidential order.

Atonis arms were adorned by golden wrist gauntlets and bands fixed around his biceps. These looked like the sea serpents Akthar had unleashed from the Pit. The Mer King had secured a cloth around his middle like a kilt made of a leather harvested from the deep, this hung over his freshly formed thighs. More strange than the Tritons ability to shift between Mer with tail to a legged man, was the otherwise imperceptible space between the deck and the soles of Atonis's feet. Superman recognised the strangeness of magic as alien to him as he was to it. The King of Tritonis held himself upright by grasping onto the door frame of the air-locked pressure chamber. It was as if Superman was watching a page from fable, fins in the water, legs upon land, or in this case the dry air of the American Submarine. Superman stepped forward and offered him his arm. The King was very unsteady on his newly made feet.

"Thank you." The older man said in English. "As old as I am I have so rarely had cause to shift my form, that I confess I know not how to use these limbs." He touched a medallion around his neck as he spoke. The Man of Tomorrow suspected yet more magic, this time translating the speech of the Tritons. Useful magic too as this was a meeting between powers, potential allies - America and Tritonis.

Superman assisted the Mer King forward. As they walked he observed Captain Sherman who was waiting for them on bridge of the Sea Tiger. With him were Trevor, and Darnell. Representing the civilians were Terry Sloane and Oliver Queen. Harper, along with Grayson, and Crane were in the engine room overseeing ongoing repairs. Diana stood next to Sherman. The Commanding Officer said.

"Mister Holden have you located Miss Prince?"

"We can't seem to find her Sir." Came the embarrassed reply.

Sherman looked at his First Officer incredulous. "Come come Mr Holden, you really can't really be telling me that you have lost her?"

"Yes." Steve Trevor said with force. "Where is Lieutenant Prince?"

"I removed Miss Prince." Wonder Woman stated. Trevor turned to face her, Superman naturally could see through the HiTAP hull. Steve formed a less than professional expression along with his smile. Diana however appeared oblivious to the Airman's puppy dog eyes.

"Where did you take her?" He asked.

"She is safe." Wonder Woman said. Superman suppressed his amusement.

"But why – was she hurt?" Colonel Darnell asked.

"Circumstances demanded it." Wonder Woman told the Colonel. Her response was curt and emotionless - military, Superman decided. A Warrior to another warrior, and Darnell seemed to respect that.

Truth was Superman considered his friend was rather too casual about her secret identity, it was either that, or her innate truthfulness meant even the white lies that Clark Kent told for the best of reasons were beyond her. He wondered how long she would be able to keep up the Lieutenant Prince façade. Superman reflected how he'd been forced to let his own guard slip with Lois. Even now he carried mixed feelings about this. Lane had always thrown herself into her work – into danger, he feared she would be even less circumspect given the new dynamic in their relationship. Superman wondered where that would take him.

Holden then asked Wonder Woman. "Just how were you able to..."

However Oliver Queen cut him short saying. "I think _how_ Wonder Woman was able to carry Miss Prince away is just one of her many mysterious abilities Mr Holden."

Superman wondered what secrets Oliver Queen was keeping. His heartbeat suggested that he was. Then again there was his close proximity to Diana. Perhaps it was gallantry, but again Queen's eyes suggested otherwise.

Lieutenant Holden shrugged, there was more than simple gratitude in his face too. The handsome sailor stared directly at Diana. Superman found himself listening to the beat of each man's heart. The underlying physiological changes told him much. Even the suave Captain Sherman was entranced by the Princess. Superman reflected on this most primal weakness before the Amazon's beauty. Shocked he realised that although so very nearly invulnerable, that even Superman was still a man, and he too was not immune to Diana's unique magic. To her beauty.

Oliver Queen looked at the Amazon warmly, saying. "Incredible abilities that include swallowing this Sea Tiger into another invisible one - like some great big Russian doll, and while I don't understand how you did it Wonder Woman, I'm grateful that you did, because it meant Speedy, Terry, Charles, and Bob were able to repair this boat – before she sank."

Superman felt like asking what about me, am I so much chopped liver? Privately he laughed at himself. Diana was as ever immune to their attentions. Stoic, she could have been made of marble.

Captain Sherman nodded respectfully to her, his grey eyes sparkled with charm, acknowledging the Amazon's part in the rescue of his boat. "The crew and I are indebted to you Wonder Woman."

Finally Superman brought King Antonis to the map table at the heart of the Sea Tiger's bridge.

Then with their esteemed guest welcomed, Sherman said. "There are pressing matters to be decided. Gentlemen what of our mission?"

"You can't mean we should follow the Nazi down that hole?" Holden asked.

"My orders are to follow her to hell if I have to." Sherman said.

"That goes double if these scoundrels are going after a Weapon of Magical Domination." Colonel Darnell said forcefully.

"You can be sure of it Colonel." Diana told him.

Aquaman stated. "Akthar also gave the Nazi's the secret means to command the monsters of the deep. That in itself is a powerful weapon."

"I suspect it's also a means to an end." Superman noted remembering his recent journey. "Without it the Nazi boat would fall foul of the many creatures that inhabit the Pit."

Atonis now made his presence felt. He stood leaning with one arm on the map table for support. The other grasped his magic Amulet. "I will permit you to pursue the enemy to Venturia."

"I'm sorry." Darnell said. "You'll permit us – I thought our Heroes here just saved your Kingdom?"

Antonis laughed clearly amused by the Colonels indignation. "And I am grateful." The Mer admitted. "However this is Triton's Realm Surfacer. I am his Steward. By rights – by the laws of Tritonis, I should order my people to tear this vessel of yours apart. In the old way there are no exceptions."

Sherman bristled with indignation. "Now look here your Majesty. This is an American Submarine. We are here in international waters under Presidential Authority."

Atonis raised his hand in a conciliatory gesture. "I regret Akthar's dealings with your enemies, but Tritonis has a sacred purpose that is to guard the Pit, Akthar betrayed that – he has given the Nazi's a means to pass through."

"The means to control the Monsters." Queen observed.

Antonis nodded. "Although how the enemy opened the magic seal that locked shut the Portal to Venturia is a great and troubling mystery. This is the first reason why I will break my solemn oath to my forefather, the Lord Triton, and let you pass through."

"Well thanks." Trevor said. The intelligence officer clearly didn't mean it.

Antonis frowned. "Surfacers you have my word my people will stay out of your war from now on. I must ask for you word that you will stay away from my realm also."

"You have it." Darnell said. "America wants peace for everyone."

The Mer King raised a eyebrow questioning the Colonel's quickly made promise.

"Tritonis requires more assurance." Antonis said. "America must promise not to build any more of these vessels." He tapped the plastic HiTAP material of the sub. "You must swear to build using the old ways - you can make your metal tin boats, like the ones that make war above us - but this kind that can go so deep to reach us. You must make no more like this."

"Now hang on." Darnell said. "The Nazi's have that dammed Battleship of a Submarine."

Antonis shook his head. "The Kraken is not the Nazi's vessel." The Mer King told the Colonel. "Although they ride in it. She is old, older than even Tritonis. She belongs to the Typhon."

Superman recognised the Amazon's name for the Lizard race, the Annunki. That explained much. It explained how the Nazi's had acquired such out of place technology, a vessel beyond the science of this modern age. Superman folded his arms across the S shield of his broad chest and looked at the Mer King sternly. "And do you consider the Typhon – the Annunki to be your friends?" He asked.

"No!" Atonis replied. "These sea snakes are our enemy. Superman this is the second reason why I shall help you. My ancestors dreamt of seeing the Kraken destroyed. As do I." Antonis turned to Aquaman, to Wonder Woman and to him. "These Heroes, are like the giants of old, Titans – having seen you three fight I believe you can defeat the Typhon's boat," he said to the three of them, "and see our dream realised." The Mer King concluded saying. "With the Kraken destroyed both our enemies will not have access to the deep, to Tritonis - so our security, our secret Kingdom will remain safe."

"If we don't agree to this pact?" Colonel Darnell asked.

The room was silent. The tension was obvious.

The Mer King made no secret of his sadness. Superman saw a man conflicted. "Then I will sink the city and physically seal the portal, and there will be war between our peoples." The old Merman shook his head sadly. "I wish it were different, but I am bound by the tradition of my fathers, the oath we all swear to Triton and Posideon, to guard the Pit. My people would not let me forgo my responsibility to the Lord Triton."

"Gentlemen." Superman said. "King Antonis has only just this day seen a rebellion among his own people defeated. Akthar conspired with the Nazi's, and that cost him the Tritons support. I believe Antonis when he says this Pact is the best he can offer. Simply we have a choice, we can help him – help us, or try and force his hand. In doing so we could find Akthar's people quickly back in power, and so find Tritonis back in the Axis camp."

"Superman is right." Diana said. "The King must balance the demands of his people, his laws, and the security of Tritonis."

"He's asking a lot of us." Trevor said to her.

"He really is asking it of Aquaman, of Superman and me." Wonder Woman told Trevor. "You'll need our help to travel through the Pit of Doom, to shepherd this vessel past the monsters."

"To give up the promise of HiTap." Sherman said. "It's a big thing to ask."

Sloane looked at Queen. The industrialist sighed and said.

"Honestly Captain, we're at least a couple of years away from being able to build a second Sea Tiger."

Terry Sloane nodded. "And that would be at considerable expense. I've yet to discover a cost effective means of production. The war may well be over before I do." The young genius put it plainly saying. "Being realistic we're giving up something I haven't yet invented – at least in practical terms."

The Colonel looked at Sherman. "Well Matt, it's our call. We're the senior officers. Your boat, my mission - we've Presidential sanction. What do you say?"

Sherman's tanned face frowned deeply as he considered the problem, but finally the Sea Tiger's Captain nodded. "Phil, honestly given what been said, I can't see another way."

Then Darnell turned to the older Merman and with obvious regret, he said. "Very well King Antonis - you leave us no choice. We agree to your Pact."


	71. Chapter 71

1942 part 9

The Annunki Diplomat Solahteedoh feathered crest ruffled, flickering upwards in greeting as the portal before him opened. In the darkness of the Annunki's caverns he saw the long lost gateway to the lost world of Venturia reopened at last. Through the void, the reptilian envoy stepped out from between vast iron gates. These were placed centrally in this gilded chamber unchanged for millennia, and for aeons these doors had stood closed, leading no where. Now the portal was open this magic gate once again stood as a bridge between worlds. The Annunki strode through the purple mist, from the green crackling light into the classical temple. The huge open space was bordered by fluted columns rising like skyscrapers, supporting the high ceiling illuminated by bright smokeless fire suspended in the void like a captive star, it burned with supernatural intensity. Light washed over the black iron frame as it divided swinging open before the congregated dignitaries delivering Solahteedoh into their midst. From a squadron of Narga Warrior rose a cry of greeting, and he turned to them raising his clawed hands.

The tall Annunki recognised among these soldiers his unearthly allies. The stocky human-reptilian chimera who called himself 'The Light' stood with the Ultra Humanite in womanly form. Solahteedoh recognised the human features of Lex Luthor. This hybrid looked older than the man the Annunki Diplomat had met in Germany, but 'The Light' was in fact younger than this Nazi Scientist, and of course he knew that the woman with him was not a woman at all but an iron golem possessed by an undead intelligence.

Such things were not strange to the reptilian. Beyond stood the assembled ranks of Venturia's ruling class. These were the Daughters of Ares, the Ha-mazan, and foremost among them was their leader the Queen Clea. The tall reptilian approached with steady reverence. He bowed before the golden throne of Venturia's monarch, borne aloft on poles by male slaves, who were noticeably shorter than the women who ruled over them. These Ha-mazan were even taller than the lofty Annunki, more than seven feet in height, and dressed as classical warriors in hardened leather and shining bronze coloured plate.

He waited for the gilded giantess to speak to him. In her right hand she carried a Trident shaped Sceptre, and by her extended left hand a sphere of light formed hovering above her palm, like a world with satellites spinning around it. Magically it crackled. A fiery orb of rank and power.

"Lord Sohlahteedoh." She began. "I have received from the Annunki Council a message of introduction, as the Ultra Humanite opened the Portal closed since the end of the Bronze Age, so my long lost allies called out again to the Mistress of Venturia" Clea nodded to the shorter female form of Ultra as she spoke. This simple gesture of respect form Clea was plainly something rarely seen, at least Solahteedoh judged by the surprised expressions in the faces of the assembled Ha-Mazan. The Queen continued her greeting. "Venturia is glad to receive the Annunki Council's Ambassador, it has been too long since we conversed with the noble Typhon."

"Greetings Queen Clea. I bring salutations from the Annunki Council. It is with joy our people even now sail to Venturia once again aboard the great Kraken, bearing gifts for you, treasures of the modern world of men, trophies and slaves."

"Of course you have." Clea laughed. Her eyes fixed on her magical orb. Within it's sphere images shifted and played, Solahteedoh saw the shape of the Kraken cutting through the crystal blue of the Venturian sea.

Queen Clea smiled saying to the assembled Ha-Mazan warriors. "I see now that your vessel even now approaches. Let us greet your kinsmen and welcome their gifts." The Queen stamped her right foot and the male slaves beneath her wheeled in that direction and began walking away from the Temple Portal. Solahteedoh understanding the etiquette of the moment followed. He was joined by his allies, the Lizard Luthor, and the Ultra Humanite. Around him the smaller Narga Warriors gathered, as generations of selective breeding brought these soldiers to the side of their Lord. Ha-Mazan Warriors strode beside them – an escort. The Warrior Women keeping a polite distance, but the diplomat understood the unspoken message. There were limits for him and even his powerful allies. As grateful as the Ha-Mazan Queen maybe for the opening of the long closed portal, Venturia remained Clea's domain.

The room emptied, the Venturians following their Queen. Her procession past through the Temple and out through opening doors. Exiting into an open court yard paved with white marble, and bounded on three sides by a complex of Classical buildings, of which the towering temple was predominate. Out they walked into the clouds. The Annunki Diplomat expected as much, and although forewarned Solahteedoh was still surprised by what he saw. Walking out onto the open square the reptilian's eyes drank in the incredible vertical cityscape of Venturia reveal itself. A vast arcology of bronze and stone towering impossibly above the landscape. To his right the azure blue of the sea, and to the left the verdant green of rolling grasslands giving way to forest and eventually snow capped peaks. The city grew into the blue sky, reaching up from an improbable narrow stalk. Towering like some giant climbing plant, with so many levels like steely leaves jutting out from the spiralling trunk. Each supporting buildings and linking bridges that created a maze of interconnections that criss crossed between the various levels like so much spiders web. At this height wispy mists of cloud drifted from the pure blue of the sky.

Queen Clea and her honour guard processing around her litter chair to the balustrade wall that encircled this level of the towering city. From this lofty vantage point they watched the approach of the Kraken, the vast submersible craft rose a mere speck above the azure waters, as it began skimming above the surface of Venturia's sea, flying above the waves as it drew ever closer to tower city.

Everything was as it should be. Then the chimera called 'The Light' called out in anger. "There is a second ship in the water!"

-'S'-

"Who's there." Kent Nelson asked the darkness.

The darkness replied. "Are you hurt?"

"Nothing to write home about, bad head, and a worse taste in my mouth." Nelson replied. "Who are you?"

"A Doctor."

Nelson felt practised fingers measure his pulse.

Then from beside him he heard the sound of someone lurching forward.

"Steady on big fella. No need to come out swinging. I'm on your side."

"Just what side is that?" Slam Bradley demanded. Kent figured the sounds he heard were the bull necked detective scrabbling in the pitch blackness. He shook his head, the sound of this man's voice was very familiar.

"Yes who are you?" Bart Regan asked.

Nelson suddenly grasped who the other man was. "I'm sorry I didn't recognise you Charles – I guess I'm still groggy."

"Think nothing of it Kent, you've all been exposed to a toxin that's related to snake venom." the Doctor said. "At least you all look in fairly good shape."

"Look?" Tex Thompson asked. "How in the blazes can you see how any of us look?"

"Mr America meet Doctor Mid-Nite." Kent Nelson replied.

"That explains a lot." Tex laughed, adding. "Who is the other guy in red and yellow?"

"That's Johnny Quick." Mid-Nite replied. "He won't be saying much I'm afraid."

"By the tone of your voice I suspect he isn't so great." Nelson concluded.

"You remain perceptive even without your helm.

"Gentlemen I won't sugar coat this. The Ultra-Humanite has begun targeting Mystery Men."

"Why?" Regan asked.

"Experiments." Mid-Nite sighed. "Johnny here is a catatonic state, because of what that fiend has done."

"What – I mean what is she doing?" Sly Pemberton asked.

"Ultra is trying to understand why so many heroes possessing special abilities have emerged over the last few years. Seemingly the last time anything like this happened was so long ago that we only remember the event through myth and legends of gods and Titans of the Heroic age."

"I hate to say, but given the original Ultra Humanite's organisation was singularly dedicated to acquiring Weapons of Magical Domination that the next step is to look at beings with apparently magical powers." Regan said. "In fact we know the Nazi's are doing the same kind of work."

"The Reich Knights." Kent Nelson observed.

"You're saying Ultra looks at Mystery Men as WMD's?" Tex said. "Well I hate to pour cold water on that idea. I really do." He continued with evident sarcasm. "But I'm not super, neither are you Bart, or you Slam, and I don't think the little guy is either. How about it Atom? How about you Pemberton or you Dugan?"

There was general laughter. Tex Thompson continued saying. "I know you're able to see in the dark some how – isn't that how you work Mid-Nite."

"Yes, among other things – and Johnny here is very fast. Superhumanly fast. I understand what you're saying Tex, I just don't think it's going to help."

"What do you mean?" Regan asked.

"You're all on the Ultra's grab list. As best as I can work it out, she's looking for something in us, in the way we're made. Something that makes us stand up and do the things we do, whether we're just men with a mission, or that _and_ a special ability. The Ultra Humanite thinks there is connection – that it's something in our blood."

"So we're all lab rats?" Slam Bradley said with cold fury.

"That's the long and short of it." Mid-Nite agreed. A long thoughtful silence followed as each man considered their collective fate. In the background Johnny Quick's breathing became laboured and the once proud hero moaned and gasped for breath. Midnite continued to tend to the man as best he could. Time in the darkness was hard for Kent Nelson to judge. Then the steel door opened once more revealing the glowing Cyclops eyes of two Automaton.

Stood in the aperture was the scientist, Terry Curtis, now called Cyclotron. He brought his own light, his body glowed with luminescent aura. Cyclotron gestured into the room. Saying to the attendant automaton "Take the one called the Atom."

-'S'-

Vigilante followed the path of Bart Regan's A-Team into the Los Angeles underground, reaching the place where there had been fought some kind of battle. The signs of conflict were clear, the weapons used were less so. Greg recognised the tell tale marks of bullet, the spent shell casings glinted brassy in the dark where he estimated the lost heroes had grouped together to make good their last stand. Against what? The Vigilante touched the residue of something chemical against the tip of his finger bringing it to his tongue, the bitter acidic chemical was unpleasant, and he saw signs of this everywhere. He pressed onwards following the changed trail. The ancient tunnels gave way to concrete and steel. Skirting along the wall edge, clinging to the shadows the Vigilante paused as he felt the vibration of heavy feet, followed by the echo of their approach. Hiding in a cleft in the exposed rock wall, he watched the glowing figure of man followed by two, what only could, be robots. Greg swallowed hard, these mechanical men were straight off the page of a pulp novel. They carried a short but muscular man between them, who struggled vainly in their metallic grasp. Greg recognised the strongman outfit with added blue cape and cowl, it was the Mystery Man the papers called the Atom. His hands fell to the guns by his side, as he considered what he should do next. Anger and adrenaline made his trigger finger itch, but caution prevailed. The Atom was just one of the missing heroes from Bart Regan's team. The question was where next? Was the captive man being taken to or from his colleagues? Greg drew his guns, and was about to fire when he heard a woman's voice calling out from behind a closed metal door, further down the corridor from whence the trio of man and machines had come. The Vigilante remembered what Colonel Lane had told him about the missing women.

Greg was torn, on the one hand the Atom and his captors were striding away from the Vigilantes hiding place, on the other the voice was unmistakably crying for help, and he now realised that there was more than one. The glowing man and his Machines ignored the cries. Greg knew he could not. Waiting until the enemy had rounded the corner and the strange light from the leading man had diminished in the distant darkness, the Vigilante followed the sound of the calls. "Help." Sounded another hoarse cry.

The door was heavy steel, and secured by a heavy handle that sent long bolts into place, it was not unlike a prison cell and lock. Peering through the peep hole Greg was greeted by darkness, there was only one thing to do, and he reached to his belt and drew from a pouch a set of lock picks. His dad had said to him "to catch a thief set a thief." "A Law man Greg." His father had continued. "Must understand the criminal mind, be able to step into a criminal shoes, walk his walk. Meaning understanding them skills, them thrills, them things that makes a man stray from the straight and narrow." The lock clicked and Greg gently pulled back the handle, there was a dull metallic thud as the mechanism rocked open, and the door swung open on newly greased hinges. The Vigilante swung his torch into the gloom.

"Howdy there." Greg said through his red neckerchief. "Are you ladies all right?"

From the darkness three figures emerged under the beam of his light.

"Your not Superman." Said the first.

Greg tipped his hat up with his finger. "I sure ain't, but if you've a problem with my rescuing you, I can just shut this door again and leave?"

"No." Another said. "We're glad you were able to find us. I'm Sally Norris, this is Deedee, and.."

"I'm Lois Lane." The first speaker identified herself. "And you are?"

"The Vigilante." Sally told Lane, speaking before Greg could answer. "You packing a backup?" She asked.

"Ahuh." Greg replied looking at her outstretched hand for a moment. "He pulled an automatic from the small of his back, and with clear hesitation dropped it into her palm "Here, but be careful."

Sally took it, she checked the gun with practised efficiency, checking the magazine, and making sure there was a round chambered. "Yeah I know, the bullets comes out of this end, right?" She asked with mock seriousness.

"What's your story?" He asked her.

"I'm Secret Service." Norris replied. "Lane is a reporter, and Deedee is an actress, but if you see another gal that looks like these two, don't hesitate to shoot, because she's the bad guy."

"Okay." Greg Saunders replied. "I've been asked to find you, and locate another agent and his team."

"Bart Regan." Sally said.

"Yeah, him and his guys. I was supposed to tell them you were missing." Greg paused. He looked up and down the tunnel. "Now I'm not sure what's going on here." He pointed down the corridor. "But a guy who looked a lot like the strong little fella the Atom just got carted off down thataway by a couple of robots and some guy all glowing like a radium watch dial."

"That must be Cyclotron." Lane suggested. She looked at the masked Cowboy. "The bad guy who looks like Deedee, that's the Ultra Humanite."

"I'm guessing that's the one I'm supposed to shoot." Vigilante observed.

"If it does you any good." Lois replied.

Greg frowned.

"We should try and find Regan and the others." Sally Norris said.

Greg was still frowning. "Then I should follow that Cyclotron character."

Norris nodded. "That makes sense, I'll check out the other direction."

"That wasn't what I meant." The Vigilante said.

"I know." Norris told him. "Okay girls lets take a look down this away." She said to Lois and Deedee, before turning to Greg. "Be careful Cowboy."

Greg looked at Sally, his automatic pistol in her hand and said. "That was what I was going to say."

-'S'-

Superman flew through the deep sea of the Pit of Doom alongside Diana. She rode on in her invisible transport, once again swallowing the American boat in it's protective aura. Aquaman swam ahead of them hardly disturbing the water around him. Together they escorted the Sea Tiger through the portal. The vast abyssal creatures obeyed the will of the Sea King, and the boat had a clear run until at least they past the first barrier, into the realm where the prehistoric reptiles ruled. These ancient predators were less easily swayed by Aquaman's psychic entreaty, but those ill tempered enough to bite were persuaded by the compelling argument made the hero's fists. Snapping teeth filled jaws were pushed back as the Sea King drove the prehistoric reptiles back, their four diamond flippers flapping uselessly against his mastery of the water. Thunder cracks sounded as the Man of Tomorrow reminded these hunters of yesteryear that he should command their respect. Diana took charge of the submarine. She sailed the Sea Tiger onwards plunging through the bright vortex of the open inter-dimensional gateway, speeding the progress of the American vessel by use of her invisible transport. She led them into the unmistakable kaleidoscopic patterns of fractured light and colour that seemed to burn brightly in the deep water. Passing though the eye of this storm of lightening and flame, the Submarine emerged onto the surface of a crystalline blue sea with Diana riding on it's back ahead of the conning tower, like Palaemon, the sea-god, riding a dolphin.

Following her came Aquaman, and Superman, and he quickly scanned the horizon of the azure sea. The portal delivered them and the Sea Tiger into this strangely beautiful pocket universe, a lost realm of Atlantis called Venturia. Superman saw the towering city, that rose from the beach head of the green rolling landscape that ended in the mountains beyond. He paused taking in the vast and incredible – impossible visage of the metal and stone edifice. He flew higher to gain perspective, hanging in the blue, his head cocked looking down to the azure waters, searching for the large submarine of Annunki design, the boat Atonis had called the Kraken. Seconds later he saw it speeding towards the great tower. It was then that all hell broke loose.

Smashing into the Man of Tomorrow was a figure that wore the contorted features of enraged hybrid vigour. The Lizard Luthor was propelled by a crackling aura of energy released from the power stone that was buried in his chest.

"You see Superman I am even more powerful." The Chimera laughed, his face bearing the features of both a man, and sharp angular lines of the Annunki, his mouth was filled with dagger like teeth, and his hands and feet were armed with talons.

Superman wrestled with the super powered chimera feeling at once that this hybrid creature was in every way his equal in strength. The Blood Stone seemed to burn all the more brightly as the Lizard Luthor pressed home his attack.

-'S'-

Solahteedoh watched as 'The Light' leapt from the city to intercept Superman.

"At last. Superman." The Ultra Humanite said. "Soon my collection will be complete." The woman laughed her voice had all the hardness and gravity of the ancient hatreds she now embodied.

Leaping from her throne the Queen Clea alighted beside them.

"Who is the little woman." She pointed into the distance, her eyes had preternatural range and focus.

"An Amazon I believe." The Ultra Humanite replied.

Clea's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"After your time dear." Ultra laughed. "The goddesses of Olympus formed a cabal. Led by Athena, after the destruction of Atlantis they raised a new race of Warrior Women to counter the power of Ares."

"That is blasphemy." Clea growled. "And that beast she rides?"

"It is an American submarine – that is a ship built by and no doubt packed with men. Consider it a gift of good fortune." Solahteedoh told her.

"More slaves are always welcome." Clea laughed. Her eyes were bright with anticipation.

"Ha-Mazan's to arms!" Clea's sceptre growing in size as she calls out to her women, expanding in the Queen's hand into a fully sized trident. Holding forward her flaming orb, a piercing whistle follows. Rising from the orb the note resounds from its fiery heart, out into the blue. From above, from the towering city, beasts emerge from their high rise stables. Great prehistoric winged beasts alive here in this lost land, this alternative dimension. These pterodactyls swoop down from their lofty perches answering Clea's supernatural call.

The Queen now leaps again, her powerful muscles carrying her into the air, to catch hold of her chosen mount. Clea falls into the saddle of the flying Pterosaur.

The Queen of Venturia is quickly followed by her Royal Guard. Taking to the air the Ha-Mazan's ride, with spears expanding in their hands into flaming lances. The prehistoric flying creatures down towards the water where the Sea Tiger lies.

Solahteedoh speaks into his wrist, where he wears a strange Annunki Vambrace, the device radios his message to the Kraken. "Engage the American ship."

Beyond the city's suspended streets and levels Clea calls out into the wind. "Now Amazon we will see what your goddesses made you of."


	72. Chapter 72

1942 part 10

Diana stood on the deck of the Sea Tiger watching the squadron winged reptiles emerge from the towering citadel. Her god-given hunters eye spied how their riders were armed with what the Amazon recognised as Atlantean weaponry. Across the waves she watched as the Annunki's legendary vessel the Kraken slipped beneath the waves, descending into the deep blue. Diana was in no doubt that both this aerial and naval force were allies, and both were coming against the Sea Tiger. Staring upwards Wonder Woman sights Superman. The Man of Tomorrow fights on against the Lizard Luthor. The Chimera appearing more dinosaur than man, kin to these creatures from prehistory. His body crackled with magical energy as the two men wrestled. Great red arcs of power sparked from the reptilian's Blood Stone heart, as if the hybrid man-beast were a flying Tesla-coil.

A creature of power great enough to fight face to face the Man of Steel.

Taking a tactical decision Diana took to the air, charging at the coming airborne force. Wonder Woman felt the wind under her invisible wings as she soared towards the cavalry of Pterosaurs Knights above. Ever vigilant and using her god-mother Athena's gift of strategy the Warrior Princess calculated her options. This was to be a three dimensional battle fought above and below the waves. Kal was occupied. The air was all hers. Diana sighed. Destiny was the business of the fates. The Sea King, Aquaman, must stand with the Sea Tiger and her crew, together against the Typhon and their Kraken.

As Wonder Woman dove toward the flying horde the Anunnki submersible resurfaces beside the American boat sending waves of white water explosively washing off its polished body. Turning as she surfaces the Kraken presents its rounded rear, which strangely glows purple. Then creeping from this domed structure stretch tendrils of purple mist glowing with light. In all becoming very much like the arms of the deeps great gigantic squid. These great tentacles reach out to catch hold of the Sea Tiger.

On the deck of the American Submarine the Sea Tiger's bow gun emerges from an unfolding hatch in the smooth hull. The cannon turns remotely to face the coming attack. Diana Prince as a lieutenant in Military Intelligence, understood that shells were delivered to the barrel by an autonomous system designed by Crane and Worthington. The gun snaps, recoiling against sprung mounts as bright loud explosive projectiles shoot into the path of the enemy. However it's not enough to halt the Kraken. Its plasma like tentacles intercept the volley, and in a series of flashes the America shells burst against the strange tendrils. Tearing the purple tentacles apart, only for them to reform once again from the scattered purple mist.

Closer still the Kraken's arms come. A tentacle of energy wraps itself around the still firing bow gun. The very metal of the cannon begins glow hot at its touch. The purple pink plasma warps the barrels shape. Molten metal drips onto the deck, blistering the unique high tensile aluminium plastic. Others tendrils begin encircling the stricken boat, and then like so many other ships over the years the Sea Tiger is dragged towards the ancient craft as an octopus might draw its prey to mouth. The body of the Kraken cracks open, two halves of the armoured hull slides open to reveal a fortress like construction within, bristling with guns manned by hooded robed figures, as others of their brotherhood mass, ready to board the captured submarine and plunder her.

Aquaman seizes this moment, and as the belly of the beast opens, as it's secret is revealed, the Sea King drives through and around the purple tendrils, an angry warrior rising from froth of the waves. Aquaman darts and dives through the thrashing tendrils, all the while fighting the purple haze, yet this mist has both substance and power. A tentacle strikes lucky, and slams the swimmer deep into the sea. Aquaman catches his breath, and comes back once more.

Aboard the Sea Tiger, its Captain makes a last desperate decision. Diana imagines Sherman giving the command. She sees torpedoes entering the water. These are like the Sea Tiger herself, unique weapons. Robert Crane and Charles Grayson had outfitted these blunt instruments with an automated control system, and with robotic efficiency the torpedoes now alter course on the fly. Twisting through the boiling water, churned by the Kraken's extend purple plasma tentacles, some of the Sea Tiger's torpedoes are caught and explode, blasting apart the purple tendrils to mist. Yet these allow thos following to find their target. The Kraken is rocked by the American weapons. Water is sent flying outwards and upwards. Robed figures on deck tumble and shout, falling as the Kracken is shaken. Smoke begins to rise from the newly exposed interior complex. As the Anunnki Vessel is shaken by the explosions around her Aquaman makes his move. The Sea King punches through the broken tentacles, shaken to a mist. Diana watches the golden green swimmer leaping from the water. He lands on the gilded deck of the pirate vessel.

Wonder Woman can only glance furtively at the Sea Tiger. She must struggle on alone. Diana concentrates on her own problems, and they are multitude. Her bracelets dance, meeting the onslaught from the weapons of old Atlantis. The Venturian spears only resemble the archetypical bronze age lance. They far more than a simple edged blade. Diana's only visible confirmation of this hidden potency is the briefest of flash of light from each polished tip. Energy surges forth like lightening. Energy that flashes from these luminescent spears, snaking towards her like jagged serpents. Wonder Woman feels their power even through the adamant of her god forged vambraces. It is a bite, she knows, that should it find meat and bone, would be both viscous and deadly. It does not, all her skill – the focus of Amazon training amplified by Hermes speed, directs the reforged metal of Zeus's Aegis. Wonder Woman's bracelets do more that deflect the attack away. Diana reflects the Venturians' weapons back against them. She adjusts her wrists so the onslaught snakes back, snapping into the path of her mounted attackers.

The pterosaurs are wise enough to recognise the danger the barbed beams represent. The great winged reptiles stall, fall, swoop and scatter. The first charge falters before the Princesses of Themyscira.

"Queen Clea!" Diana hears the words called out. "She rides the air currents on invisible wings and deflects our lightening as one blessed by Zeus himself." A leading warrior shouts to the brightly gilded warrior, their commander.

Diana sees Clea. The Venturian Monarch is dressed for war, she rides her own Pterosaur, while directing her soldiers from the saddle. Her shouted commands echo on the wind. Voice given to followers. Clea points with her spears three barbs at Diana.

"This one has great Magic – but we are older and greater still!" Clea shouts. The face of Venturia's statuesque ruler was contorted first by incandescent rage, then by determination. "Ha-Mazon! For Venturia and for Ares!" Clea cries. "Knights to close quarters."

"Great Hera." Diana gasps. She had guessed as much, but had hoped she was wrong, that the legendary history of the time before the Amazons was wrongly told, but Clea had confirmed it. With her own voice she had spoken the word; Ha-Mazon.

In the Venturian Queen's right hand she bears the Trident of Posideon. In her left the reins of her flying animal. Clea's Warriors do not hesitate to answer her command. Pterosaurs rise and turn, wide fingered skin covered wings beating against the sky, as her minions fall upon Diana. They abandon any attempt to use Atlantean technology to attack the Amazon from afar, instead relying on their weapons more primitive form for function. Like desperate soldiers in the trenches fixing bayonets in place of bullets they stab at Diana with their spears. Wonder Woman becomes a dazzling blur of colours and reflected light as Diana flashes past them. Grabbing the shafts of the incoming blades, fluidly countering and disarming, yanking and dispatching the tall Venturians from their saddles out into the air, and down to sea below.

Diana fights to free herself of the relentless waves of determined flying warriors, jerking away from their reptiles snapping jaws. She sees their leader, Queen Clea flying above the melee, holding forth the now brightly glowing Trident of Posideon. Wonder Woman recognises the tell tale aura of old magic emanating from the ancient object of power.

Diana bites down angry. Knowing that the Venturian Queen was summoning from the ages long past, the old magic.

Desperately Diana fights to push through this aerial Armada, to stop Clea's spell being cast, stop the power that pulses through the gilded Trident being directed.

"Athena!" Diana gasps as she calculates Clea's strategic purpose. Even now as the battle between the Sea Tiger and the much larger Kraken was all but won. As Aquaman tremendous strength was scattering the robed reptilian minions across the deck on the gilded vessel. As they fight Wonder Woman can see the vast waters below being bent to the will of the Tridents wielder.

Diana sees it clearly - Clea means to use the Tridents power of water against them all. Diana sees through the blur of translucent wings, the snapping jaws and stabbing spears, that the Venturian sea is beginning to boil as Clea unleashes the great magic force of Posideon's Trident.

Wonder Woman punches herself free from the swarming Venturian Warriors, only to see Superman and the Lizard Luthor now fall from a sky. Together a fiery pulsating orb of red energy, within this ball of magical fire. To her horror she sees the Chimera has his claws tight around the man of Steel's throat. Together they tumble away towards the coast.

In a heartbeat their advantage over the enemy had been lost.

"Damn the Fates." She spits.

-'S'-

The Vigilante skirted the corridor along which the glowing figure of Cyclotron had led the Automatons carrying the captive Mystery Man – the Mighty Atom. Crouching in the shadows he used the polished barrel of his six shooter as a mirror to glance around the corner, and through the door way. The distorted image revealed a chamber carved into the bedrock of the mountain. There strapped to some apparatus that looked as if it had been borrowed from Doctor Frankenstien's Laboratory by way of Ming the Merciless, evil ruler of Mongo, was the diminutive pugilist. Al Pratt had been relieved of his distinctive cape and cowl, and his face was a mask of pain as electricity or something like it passed through his body, causing him to twitch and strain against the bonds that held him fast to the angled table. Wires lead from his body to an apparatus, where Cyclotron stood. The glowing man was watching the machines array of instruments, Terry Curtis, the jump suited scientist's luminescence shedding an eerie light onto the bank of switches and dials. Large needles flickered and pulsed behind glass accompanying each strangled scream from the Atom's lips. Across from him, between the tortured red haired Atom, and Ultra's man was a long release lever attached to the table. Greg peered around the corner of the doorway he had to be certain. A marksman eye assessed the exposed gears and linkage between the lever and the bindings that held the Atom fast. It was a gamble, but the Vigilante liked the odds, and reaching to his belt he hefted the rope into his hands, loosing the lasso into the air.

Cyclotron turned only as the rope snagged tight around the lever and Greg Saunders stepped out into the light. With one hand the Vigilante held onto the rope coiled around his wrist and arm, with the other he held his gun. Bearing down on the lasso the Vigilante pulled and turned, yanking the lever past the v stop and like a Barber's chair the table hissed up right. At the same time the metal bonds opened releasing Al Pratt just as another surge of power pulsated through him. Cyclotron cursed and intinctively reached out as the table moved, his face registering panic. In that moment the Atom both tensed in pain and slumped unrestrained. The smaller man fell forward against Terry Curtis's outstretched arm, and the power from the Ultra Humanite's improbable machine surged through them both. The Atom and Cyclotron both screamed.

The Vigilante raised his arm to shield his eyes as Cyclotron glowed all the brighter, power seemed to surge back and forth quickly between the men and the strange apparatus, so much so that the light flickered quickly enough to create a strobe effect throughout the cavernous chamber. Sparks rose from towering Tesla coils, crackling like lightening amidst the pulsating forms of the Atom and Cyclotron. Then sparks gave rise to smoke, and a loud bang. The Vigilante saw both men fall. Neither were illuminated any more, and when they hit the stone floor sudden darkness held sway over the vast laboratory chamber.

Greg could hear his own heart beating ever so fast. Adrenaline trumped fear of the unknown, he abandoned the lasso, letting his hand take up the second six shooter from it's holster. Then in the darkness he saw two red lights burning, the adamant Cyclops - the Ultra Humanite robotic henchmen. Their torch like fire pierced the gloom, like searchlights the Automaton's fiery eyes fell upon the glimmering chrome of his lawmakers.

"Come and get it." The Vigilante spat.

-'S'-

From the bridge of the Sea Tiger Captain Sherman falls against the guard rail while trying to keep his eyes on the periscopes view finder. Outside he catches sight of the submarine being parted from the Kraken''s purple tendrils by a wall of water. Suddenly Sherman feels the Sea Tiger lurch once more, but the sensation is like being snatched by an elevator.

Sherman cries out. "All hands brace for impact."

Beside him he hears Steve Trevor curse, and Colonel Darnel whisper a prayer.

To his right Lieutenant Holden hits the klaxon and the emergency is sounded from prow to stern. Sherman steadies himself, his knuckles white as he hangs onto the periscopes twin handles, even as his body is pulled hither and thither, the Navy man manages to keep his eyes pressed to the glass. Sherman watches as the distant land appears suddenly in his field of view, arriving all too quickly. In those desperate seconds the submariner reflects that it was like the sea itself had snatched up his boat and hurled her forward. There was nothing he or his crew could do, but hang on, hope on, and pray the HiTAP hull was strong enough to resist whatever forces were being directed against their submarine.

-'S'-

Diana bursts angrily out of the writhing flock of flying lizards - from the out between the Pterosaurs jaws and their riders flashing lances. Wonder Woman, knows these Warrior Women will follow. These Ha-Mazon were all Warriors – just as her Mother's people were, but rather than Athena's Wisdom, or Hestia's warmth, the embodied the blood lust of Ares, they were a cartoon caricature of the divine feminine, brutal, bloodthirsty, and cruel, they sought her death without mercy, there was no compassion or love, no peace through strength – the Amazon way; only eternal conflict and fear. These giants were determined. She was their quarry.

The hunted was the hunter. Diana was Artemis's daughter.

Wonder Woman speeds forward – she focuses on Clea. The Warrior Queen is using the Trident of Posideon to direct the waters below her in incredible ways.

Wonder Woman can see now she is free of the Ha-Mazon horde, as she rockets towards her nemesis, how Clea makes the sea rise against the Sea Tiger. Yet the same terrifying waves seem to embrace the Kraken protectively – as a babe rocked in a cradle.

Too late Diana realizes that Clea has summoned a vast wave. The Venturian monarch magically controls and aims the saltwater as an extension of her hands. Diana is so close now she can see Clea's glee. The Queens excitement as the waters below obey her beck and call, lifting and carrying the American vessel so high that the sea spray fills the air around them all, Clea and the Venturian Pterosaurs Knights, wet like rain. Wonder Woman has but a split second to decide what she must do. For Diana the choice is between the heat of battle and innocent lives. For an Amazon heart the choice is easy. Wonder Woman dives toward the stricken American boat.

Aquaman powers up from below as she falls to the Sea Tiger. The Sea King emerges into view at tremendous speed, swimming through the tortured wall of water in which the American boat rode. The gold and green Atlantean armour catching the light of the sun in the crest of the wave. The Swimmer pulls towards the boat – his intentions clear to Diana, they are merciful and selfless, the same as hers, to try at all costs to save the submarine and her crew; her colleagues and her friends.

Diana releases her Lasso. The god-given golden and unbreakable line wraps around the tubular hull of the fish shaped vessel. Aquaman catches hold, as she braces against the shining lariat. Together they try to defy the laws of physics. The Sea King sharing his ability in the water, and she her herculean strength to lift the submarine free of the seas grasp.

However the sea obeys Clea, and the Venturian Queen has other ideas. Diana realises this too late. As the Sea Tiger rises into the air with her, a second wave of even greater strength appears from no where and like a second hand, slaps both her, Aquaman, and the submarine down hard. Together they fall driven towards the coast. The wave crashes down, engulfing the beach and land beyond, flinging the Sea Tiger on shore. Here the submarine hull buckles and cracks as it smashes against the ground, taking with it both Aquaman and Wonder Woman.


	73. Chapter 73

1942 part 11

Superman felt the grip of the Lizard Luthor's talons around his neck, blood flow restricted, he felt his head lighten, but he could not permit himself to fail. To resist to push beyond the boundaries of his own limits, deprived of air, the scream is stifled, caught in his throat, passing silently between clenched teeth, and stretched lips.

Together they fall to ground. Doc Croc, as Gio Zatara had called 'The Light', crackled in red energy, magic pulsing through it's reptilian limbs.

Magic duelled with science. Superman had fought against such power before, only to fail. Wotan had sent him tumbling down too. The Man of Steel had been both hurt and worse, defeated. Dreams of crushing the dictator Hitler dashed, victory over the Nazi Capital had been to the old god and Sorcerer.

That indignity still stung Superman. Not a proud man, Clark had been taught to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly. That had been the simple creed of Jonathan Kent. But defeat in the face of black shirted magic was more than his sense of justice could bear. He was angry still, but the Man of Tomorrow was no fool. Superman had learned from yesterdays misfortune. Today he was stronger and wiser. Rather than expend his own strength trying to match the monster's magic blow for blow, he conserved it, like a boxer, resisting, clinching, spoiling, struggling. Letting his opponent spend his anger, spend his strength in attack.

The price was high, his face bled from cuts, his eyes blackened and swollen, he looked like hell, and he felt every blow, force and power melded, each a steel hammer charged with the sting of electric like magical lightning. Each bone crushing blow shook his every fibre.

Rage burned in the eyes and the artificial heart of the creature before him. Red and turbulent, given form through the Blood Stone that sparked violently in the beasts chest. The more Chimera fought the more feral the Lizard became, and the less like the genteel young man Clark Kent had first met at Metropolis Field. All that was human about the chimera faded away, leaving only the reptilian primitive, all wide mouthed and full of teeth; its dark eyes, snake like, deep set, and murderous.

As they tumbled Superman doubted himself, was this moment to be his last, had he miscalculated, was this gambit a foolish one? Could his Kryptonian constitution outlast the magical energy stored within the powerstone?

Superman remembered the conversation he had with Gio Zatara, Carter Hall, Ted Knight, and Alan Scott. Then he had learned how the Blood Stones were a different, but related force to the Green Lantern's own colour filled powers. He knew that Alan's ring lost it's charge with use. He knew the Green Lantern must used the far larger Power Battery to recharge his Power ring.

Superman gambled that this was also true for the Blood Stone.

"Falter! Fail!" Mouthed words by airless voice as he and Doc Croc smashed into the green luscious landscape of Venturia.

Then the wave crashed in from the sea.

-'S'-

Lois Lane watched Sally Norris by pass the security tumbler that held the heavy metal door closed, picking the lock with a steady practised hand. Together with Deedee the three dark haired women pushed the barrier aside. Revealing darkness, and then shadowy shapes of men sprawling uncomfortably on a cold hard floor, along with the musty smell of damp air, sweat and fear. It could have been a rotten prison any where, but it was hundreds of yards down in the bedrock below Los Angeles. Groans followed, accompanying movement.

"Sally is that you?" A voice croaked from the gloom.

"Bart?" Sally answered back. Regan stumbled forward, he was roughed up, dishevelled, far from the suave operator Lois had first met, but his smile was broader than his shoulders. He did not hesitate to pull his partner to him, before landing a thoroughly unprofessional kiss on her red lips. Sally didn't seem to mind the suddenness or the grimy hands that held her. She pulled Regan all the closer. The Secret Service Agent winced as she hugged him back. Bruised and battered no doubt Lois reflected. Sally brushed his cheek apologetically.

She hadn't meant to hurt him. Lois reflected that with Clark that would never be a problem. Some how that thought wasn't as reassuring second time around. Lois second guessed herself always. She was a thinker and a writer. An intellect trained to question – to look for another angle to every story, even her own. Now and not for the first time Lois questioned herself. How could a soft fleshly woman really touch a Man of Steel?

Seeing Sally with Bart, she saw herself and Clark, the resemblance was less than their outward similarity, but what a difference a few years made, how already Regan's dark hair had gained a fleck of silver at his temples. Lois found herself wondering about her future. She could touch Clark's heart and soul, but Lois found herself wondering if she could ever satisfy him as a woman. It was a question that Lois Lane had never imagined asking herself. Yet this wasn't any other man, Clark was Superman.

Regan smiled fondly at Norris, and as they parted from their passionate clinch, more faces emerged from the holding cells. She recognised the broadest as Slam Bradley, somehow the scrapper had managed to lose most of his shirt, again. He held up another man, an athlete, wearing a tight fitting leotard, the red and yellow costume allowed Lois to put a name to his masked face – Johnny Quick. With him was the caped and cowled Doctor Midnite. She recognised the broad brimmed Fedora of the Sandman, and the red and yellow garb of the Crimson Avenger and Wing. Every one of them looked like Regan, beat up and worse for wear. Others followed, wearing the same military fatigues as Regan. These were his team, Lois at once recognised Tex Thompson. With him were two further operatives, a big man who introduced himself as Dugan, and slighter youth, who gave his name as Sylvester Pemberton III. However missing was the short but broad shape of the Mighty Atom.

-'S'-

The Vigilante looked across the darkness at the approaching Automatons. They moved with mechanical certainty, as if to say resistance was futile. Greg considered his options, and running wasn't one of them. "Saunders ain't yeller." So went the family motto of sorts according to his father. Beyond the fallen figure of Cyclotron was beginning to glow once again in the darkness, but it was a different kind of light. Gone was the radium dial green that had been his signature, now in time with pulse from the reawakened Tesla-coils, and together with the Atom and the machine to which the fallen man was still connected, all were glowing as if illuminated by a rainbow. Pulsing colours now washed over the room from them. Ultra's machines paused. Their turret like heads rotated towards Cyclotron's elaborate apparatus. Something was wrong with this scene, Greg was certain of it. This peculiar light show was not what the Automatons expected.

Angry fire leapt from the robotic Cyclops's eyes and struck the array of switches and dials, engulfing the sparking coils. Then came the explosion. Light bright and white flashed. Lightning sparked around the room. Greg was only human. He couldn't process the speed of light, but he felt the impact. Jagged fingers reached out and touched the metal of his guns. The Vigilante was flung backwards. Greg felt the air driven from his lungs as hard unyielding rock met his back, the electric like current had slammed him into the wall of the chamber, he slipped down into the returned darkness, all the darker to his eyes because of the previous brilliance.

The Vigilante found he'd dropped one of his six shooters. His right hand tightened around the hilt of his remaining weapon. He winced, the gun was hot to the touch. He blinked trying to see.

Sparks from the broken apparatus spat hot and bright in the darkness, spitting outwards behind the two machine enforcers. A small fire began there, its light flickering, illuminating the room poorly, but it was enough for Greg to see the Automatons appeared motionless.

Had the lightening from the exploding apparatus broken these robots? Greg wondered and hoped it had.

A moment later he cursed. It had been a false hope.

The Vigilante watched as the single eye in each robotic Cyclops opened once more, the turret heads turning bringing the red opening around towards him, burning angrily as before. It seemed these unholy machines had been insulated against the explosion.

"Dammit." He whispered, his gun still felt warm. "Come and get it." He snarled.

The Machines didn't need his invitation. They came for him. Their previously deliberate steps gone, replaced by sudden and violent movement. It seemed unfair to the winded man, that something so large, so heavily constructed, could move so quickly.

"If I'm going down." The Vigilante said. "I'm going down guns blazing." Greg aimed and fired.

The bullet span out of his barrel. The muzzle flash was bright in the darkness, and something was different, it was so very ice blue. Greg's aim was good. As a marksman he was unsurpassed. The bullet struck the first machine in its single fiery eye. The Vigilante dived to one side, as the second Automaton fell upon him, its metal fist hammering into the wall like wrecking ball cracking the stone beside his head. Ears ringing Greg rolled across the floor, dizzy.

From the other side of the room a red headed figure charged angrily toward him, the Mighty Atom leapt over Greg as he barrelled into the second machine, even as its turret like head span ready to fire upon Saunders.

The Atom leap was led by a flying punch at the robot. It seemed an impossible task, the short stocky man against a giant of metal, and yet the machine staggered, then as the Atom followed through, bringing his shoulder and back to bare, Ultra's Automaton was lifted from off its feet. The Robot tumbled back falling against the far wall of the chamber with such force that the rock shook around them. Red fire seem to leak from the machines joints, hot and steaming like molten lava it glowed and burned as the robot jerked uselessly against the cracked stone of chamber where it was embedded, like a crashed automobile.

The red haired short man looked across at Greg, his face was a mirror of the Viglante's own. The Atom was a surprised as Saunders by his own strength. There was a warm glow around the curled fist of the smaller man, as if he was holding a light source in the heart of his bunched fingers.

Greg grabbed for his second gun. His eyes watching the first robot. He had shot the machine in the fiery eye. The bullet had flashed ice white blue when it had struck the flames within. Now the robot stood like a metal statue, its internal fires inexplicably extinguished. For the second time both allies looked to one another shocked by the outcome. Then there consternation was interrupted by groans as Cyclotron struggled to his knees, his strange radium green luminescence returning to him, Ultra's henchman now turned his attention to the two allies. Again his face was one of a man surprised. Surprised to see the fierce Automatons neutralised, and then came anger as he extended his hands concentrating the glowing radiance into a brilliant green light around his fingers.

-'S'-

In the broken Submarine the crew began to abandon their boat. The injured had to be carried by the able. Only naval discipline kept the fear and panic under control. Captain Sherman stood on the bridge. He stared, bloodied but unbowed. Nevertheless even he felt pain of his broken vessel like a wound to his own body and soul. Sherman looked from his position, hanging onto the guard rail of the listing boat, looking through a gaping hole made in the submarine middle, through the broken back of the sea tiger out across brown mud stained plains, to green wooded hills and tall snow capped mountains. A warm wind kissed his fevered cheeks, and the smell of water and wet earth. Summoning all his resolve and courage, Sherman began calling out.

First Holden, then Trever, and Darnel shouted back. "Here." Others were not so fortunate. Dark blood stained the HiTap hull.

"Medic!" Holden called out. Where the hull had ruptured a young sailor lay injured.

"I've got this."Terry Sloane said. The young man slid across the inclined deck to where Holden knelt, at once putting to work his medical degree without hesitation. "Apply pressure here Mister Holden." Sloane asked directing the Lieutenant to stem the blood flow from the young sailor's leg wound.

"You're a terrific guy to have around in a tight spot." Holden commented.

Sloane used his belt as a makeshift tourniquet. Shortly he said. "I've got this."

Sherman turned away from the broken opening to the strange world of Venturia, and back into the dark shadowy confines of his boat.

Holden shouted from up front. "Can't go forward, too much damage." The dark haired man made his way back to the Captain.

Sparks crackled, hydraulic lines fell away from their housings, some had burst spitting their oily fluid across the walls and floor, he called Lieutenant Holden over, and together made there way to the engine room. Stumbling in the darkness, along the listing corridor. There a fire raged.

"Dammit." Sherman gasped. "Is there anyone in there?" he demanded of the rating closest to hand.

The young sailor looked shell shocked. He managed to reply. "Doctors Grayson and Crane."

-'S'-

Aquaman dragged Wonder Woman from the sludge. In the aftermath of Clea's terrible watery attack mud and debris littered the ground from the shore deep into the verdant interior. The Amazon Princess had been driven deep into the soaked ground by water, forged within the confines of magical energy into an effectively incompressible hydraulic hammer. Steel could not have hit any harder, only Aquaman's preternatural affinity with the seas had allowed him to ride through the turbulent pressure of the magically constrained wave. Now the Sea King used all his strength to move the dirt, to free Wonder Woman from the mud. She emerged soiled and stunned.

The sound of leather wings filled the air, as the cries or the Pterosaurs from above confirmed that the giant Ha-Mazon's were coming to finish them. White lightning crackled from the sky as the Atlantean ranged weapons spat deadly jagged beams towards the unconscious Princess, and the Sea King. Aquaman leapt upwards carrying Diana in his arms, his green boots gripped and then repelled across the liquefied surface of the ground as a magnet might steel, as long as there was water underfoot, Aquaman was in his element, and moving at speed he slid across the wet ground, even with Wonder Woman in hand he was able to outmanoeuvre the aerial attack of Clea's Pterosaurs Knights. Leaping over obstacles, the aquatic super-man sped back to the sea.

Clea reacted. Aquaman felt the surge of magic, it pulled at him, tugging at his very being. Diana screamed. The Trident of Posideon summoned not only the water from around about them, but the Ha-Mazon Queen directed her talisman to work upon his flesh and hers. Arthur knew enough biology to understand this. The human body was eighty percent water. The Trident controlled all forms of water, solid, liquid and gas, there was enough life giving fluid within them for the ancient power to draw upon, and invoke rebellion. Resisting the pain the Sea King instead embraced the wave of brown muddy liquid, Clea's second intended weapon. She summoned the waters of the spent wave into another tempest, intending to crush him and Diana. Yet this brown muddy torrent became his salvation. There was another magic, one made of courage and determination. For all the Trident's might, water was Aquaman's element. Even as the old magic tried to constrain him, this son of two worlds; of shore and sea, dug deep, pushing his meat and bones hard, an athlete, running on determination and courage, unwittingly summoning a power older still. The Source of his strength and life itself. From out this fertile chaos of the primordial waters of creation, Arthur Curry heir to Atlantis's Throne drew strength and he rebelled. Even as the animal magic of Posideon's Trident tried to constrain him, the Aquaman ran through it's magical grasp like water from a closed fist. Immune to Clea's cries of rage, and avoiding the lightning strikes of the Atlantean lances, Aquaman carried the Amazon Princess into the deep blue. The dirt that had soiled their gilded and colourful costumes was washed away. The Sea King sped from the attacking aerial horde of Ha-Mazon Knights. Once under the water the speeding Swimmer put distance between him and the Trident. Not for his sake, but for Wonder Woman, and as he swam he felt Clea's magical reach failing, the Ha-Mazon Queen was losing him as she struggled to control, to reach out to and through so great a reservoir of water, by the magic she employed. Aquaman was relieved that Venturia's ruler might wield the Trident of Posideon, but clearly she was not truly its mistress. It was cold comfort in the enveloping blanket of cool blue salt water. Diana stirred safe within her invisible bubble - Hermes gift of speed and movement in any realm, and together they eventually surfaced looking back toward the now distant towering capital of Clea's Venturia.

-'S'-

Superman spat blood, staring resolutely through bruised eyes, even as Clea's wave carried the Sea Tiger to ground, he twisted himself around from beneath the Lizard Luthor. In the haze of red power emanating from the Blood Stone in the Chimera's chest he was transported in memory to the harsh times of the Dust Bowl, then as a Superboy he'd leapt blindly through the darkness, now immersed in the red crackling storm from the Power Stone, he felt as blind and as powerless as the teen trying to do good in the face of nature gone awry. Yet in those first days as the invisible prairie angel, Superboy had learned hard lessons that he carried through to adulthood. Now Superman used his other senses. Flight was an act of will, but long before he'd defied gravity Clark Kent had learnt to leap and to fall, to twist and turn. Then in the dust clouds of the corn belt to do so blind. He was as much an acrobat as a strong man, and then and now, without sight, a daredevil. Now he drove Doc Croc down, like a meteor flaming red into the green of the grasslands, gouging a deep chasm and trail into the earth. The Chimera's talons hold around his neck is at last broken and Superman staggers back from the impact. He finds time to smile as his gamble has paid off, the Lizard Luthor had been so intent on destroying the Man of Steel, he had lost sight of his place in the world, he had spent the power of the Blood Stone. Like the Green Lantern the Power Stone had lost it's charge with use, and the ground had greeted his enemy hard.

Doc Croc now crept from the crater, his burning aura of power reduced, as he struggles to gain his footing, the Blood Stone glow dims all the more. Superman presses home his advantage. In the light of pocket universes sun the Man of Tomorrow's wounds are already healing, and his fist drives home the fact that although he is battered, Superman is far from defeated.

The Chimera's aura sparks as the concussive force of punch that contacts with the failing energy field before the sound of a man striking faster than a speeding bullet, faster than the speed of sound cracks like a bull whip. Lizard Luthor is propelled tumbling backwards across the green of the Venturian grasslands.

Superman leaps the distance almost immediately in a single bound, coming to where the Chimera, bounces and rolls, like a tumble weeds rolling over the ground, coming to a halt a buses length away from Venturia's apex predator. Superman sees the beast, and lands stunned by the vision of what he sees.

As he pauses Doc Croc's shape becomes less well defined, more plastic, then more human. The shape shifter reels from Superman's punch, scrabbling on the grass. In this moment the carnivore sights the stunned Chimera, seeing Doc Croc flaying in the dirt, and the predator closes the distance between itself and the Lizard Luthor in a single step.

Superman understands nature red in tooth and claw, and he jumps to the fallen Chimera's side, even now intent on saving the life of the one men called 'The Light'. However the Lizard Luthor in rage, perhaps madness, ignores or simply has no idea of the towering threat behind him. He stands his back to the vast head filled with foot long dagger teeth. Instead the shape shifter reverts to his first persona of power, 'The Light' his fists glowing with deadly radium attempts to strike Superman down even as he comes to his aid.

The Tyrant Lizard does not hesitate, fifty feet and eight tons the Tyrannosaurus lurches at the two figures by it's taloned feet.

Superman punches past 'The Light', but Doc Croc isn't playing, the Lizard Luthor directs his radium punch into Superman while drawing on the last energy from the Blood Stone, consequently the Man of Tomorrow's punch falls short, and with brutal precision the Tyrant Lizard grabs the Chimera in its jaws, blood runs across the power stone as 'The Light' takes his last broken breath in the damp stinking maw of the Tyrannosaurus Rex.


	74. Chapter 74

1942 part 12

The flaming luminescence that was Cyclotron flashed towards the Vigilante, eerily green against the dark chamber. Greg reacted in the only way he could, in self defence. His finger presses the trigger, hammer to the bullet. The Vigilante was not a cold bloodied killer, but his choice to carry peace makers came with a heavy burden. He shouldered the responsibility the irons brought to a man who wore a gun belt. That he could kill, didn't mean his intention was to, even now in these strange and terrifyingly uncertain circumstances Greg didn't want to slay this crazed scientist.

It took a cool head and a steady hand not to shoot to kill, and the Vigilante had both.

What followed was as bizarre as it was different from the preceding blue flash. A shot of yellow gold light burst from the barrel of his second gun. Something was jive-bad, but predictably his aim was swell. There was a corresponding flash of yellow on green as Cyclotron's right shoulder took the hit. Curtis's flying leap was stalled, and he barrelled over as if hit by a sledgehammer, impressive even for a .45, and as he fell onto his back yellow wisps of smoke steamed from his collapsed form, sucking the green radium radiance from his body.

The Vigilante fell to his knee beside the scientist.

"I hit him." Greg said to Atom. The red haired man stood over them.

The Vigilante reached out to Curtis. His hand hovered over the strange scientists costume, understandably reticent to touch him, to break into the aura that emanated from him.

The Atom had no such reticence. He bent down and inspected the yellow glow that came from Cyclotron's shoulder. Greg could see that this wasn't the bullet wound that he'd expected. It was like nothing Saunders had seen before, but the Vigilante reflected, that much was true for most of what he had witnessed in these caves.

The freckled nose of the short but broad man wrinkled as he frowned. "He seems out of it." The Atom said. "I've seen fella's shot enough times to know what a slug from a .45 will do – this ain't it. What are you using?"

The Vigilante tipped up his hat, as he looked the red haired Atom in the eye, pulling down his red neckerchief from his mouth he said. "This morning I loaded regular .45's."

"Doesn't look like it." The Atom observed. He crossed his stocky arms, the leather wrist guards brown against the yellow of his costume. "You took down Cyclotron – and you shot one of Ultra's robots. It seems to me those slugs aren't regular ammunition." He paused and added. "At least not any more."

Greg shook his head remembering the strange power that had sparked from Ultra's machine. He had to admit something darn odd was going on. "Say fella. What about you?" He asked. "That's some punch you're packing."

The Atom frowned again. He looked at his hands. His fingers curling into fists once more. Again it seemed as if he held light bulbs in the midst of them, a light pink and warm glowing emerged from within. It was the Atom's turn to shake his head.

"I trained hard. I made myself strong. So much so that for a while I didn't know my own strength. One time I broke a handle right from a locked door, but this..." The Atom paused, before sighing. "This is something else."

"You mean something happened to you." Greg paused before adding the single word. "Too?"

"It isn't the first time." The Atom admitted. "This guy whaled on me once before." He gestured to Cyclotron. "I felt _different_ afterwards, but there was a good reason – or so I thought,.. but now I wondering whether it wasn't something more."

Vigilante thumbed over and gestured across to the broken robot. "Not sure Superman could have done any better."

The Atom laughed. He then frowned a third time. "I saw you being hit by the energy from Ultra's machine too."

The Vigilante looked at his guns. "Not exactly – not directly." He said. Staring at the cylinders of his revolvers Greg noticed a glimmer of white light coming from the remaining bullets.

He stood up, thinking about what this could mean. Cyclotron had been shot, but there was blood, no hole, just a yellow glow emanating from his shoulder, where the wound ought to be, a glow that encompassed the unconscious man. Then there was the flash that came from his guns. Blue then yellow. He could see that the unused rounds were glowing faintly inside the cylinders of his paired Peacemakers.

"I guess something happened." He said. "Can't tell you what."

The Vigilante looked at the scientist, but the still insensible man could give no answers.

The Atom stooped down and smoothly lifted Cyclotron from the floor, saying. "We should find the others. Perhaps Doctor Midnite will be able to figure out what has happened to you, me, and this guy."

-'S'-

The Pterosaurs Knights swooped towards the broken submarine. Emerging from the aft hatch the smoke stained faces of Bob Crane and Lieutenant Holden, together they pulled the limp form of an unconscious Charles Grayson up from below. Dragging him clear from the Sea Tigers engine room, with smoke following from out of the hatch as the last man, Captain Sherman emerged coughing from the hull, satisfied his crew had successfully abandoned the stricken boat.

Above the Venturians attacked. Pale white lightning zig zagged down from their lances. The bolts struck the men gathered outside the beached boat, felling as many as they hit. Some rose scrambling to their feet, stumbling as if drunk.

Screams from above rang out in a language Sherman couldn't recognise, but the tone was angry enough. The women who rode the flying lizards began firing again, this time the bolts seemed brighter and more men fell.

Then the beasts swooped lower still snatching the fallen from the ground beside the broken submarine. Sherman saw the blond curls of Steve Trevor's head as the Airman was snatched bodily from the ground by the birdlike claws. Another Pterosaur snatched up Colonel Darnel. Their riders urged the flying lizards away and back towards the towering citadel of Venturia. It struck the Sea Tiger's Captain that this was their purpose, to subdue and capture his people. A grim look of determination crossed his face. "Where's the guns?" He shouted. "Come on men! Snap to it! They're only overgrown canaries."

Sherman saw the initial shock and awe of seeing the prehistoric beasts ridden by women break, his men were remembering their training. The thunder of American gun fire answered the lightning of the Venturian Knights.

Beside him Sherman saw Crane lay Grayson on the ground away from the smoking aft section of the Sea Tiger. Meanwhile Holden took aim and fired his side arm. Sherman joined him. Their bullets striking the Pterosaurs steeds, enraging the vast beasts, making them all the harder for the Ha-Mazon's to control. A chatter of automatic fire sent heavy slugs into the body of one of the Pterosaurs even as it reached down with it's hind feet to snatch a fallen sailor. It wailed a terrible squawk come growl, and faltered. The near side wing membrane was torn, and ungainly the beast fell to the ground unseating its tall rider. From above other Knights saw the threat and fired volleys at the armed sailors. Sherman winced as from above a bright ragged dagger of light flashed down towards them. The Captain saw the gunner nearest Crane fall, this time his chest smoked blackened and burned, the smell was distinctive. Unlike the earlier barrage this latest assault from the Venturian Lightning Lances was apparently lethal. Crane bravely reached out and grabbed the Thompson from the fallen man, and began to return fire.

"Captain, they've adjusted their weapons again, turned them up, they are shooting to kill." Bob Crane said to him.

Sherman nodded. It seemed that way. At first the attackers seemed interested in taking prisoners, but now their quarry had shown the US Navy could fight back the Ha-Mazon's had changed their tactics. Sherman aimed again at one the Venturians Pterosaurs. "As must we."

"Never thought I'd be shooting at women." Holden confided.

Sherman nodded his face grim. "We've little use for chivalry today."

From behind the fallen Pterosaur, now dead, the stunned rider stood up, shaken and angry. Sherman caught her moving from the corner of his eye. "Look out Crane!"

The lance tip pulsed and bright energy lashed out catching crane low in the chest. The Venturian Knight staggered as Crane's bullets slammed into to her chest plate, and her hand was bloodied as a bullet strafed the shaft of her spear. There was a burst of flame from the ancient weapon, and the Ha-Mazon fell, but Crane fell too, not down but he was flung back, as if hit by a car. His body doubling over as the concussive force of the Atlantean weapon punched into his midrift, slamming him against the boat into which he had put so much of himself. Together he and the HiTap hull pulsed with the explosive blast from the Ha-Mazon's Lance. The discharge of energy did not stop when the Ha-Mazon Knight fell. Her uncontrolled weapon danced and twisted on the ground like a hose pipe under pressure. From the tip energy poured forth, a white bright crackling jet of lightening like power, and Crane was like a man holding onto a live wire, he was held fast, the energy bonded to him, and he to the hull of Sea Tiger. It was terrifying to watch as the energy flowing from the Atlantean weapon, washing over the all but lost outline of Crane, spilling over the melting boat, until the fire from without met the fire within, black smoke, the stench of burning diesel oil, acrid darkness met the brilliance of this magical energy exploded.

Sherman reflected bitterly, that now both Crane and their boat, lay broken, lost to the ancient vengeance of Venturian arms.

-'S'-

"Damn it I wish I knew what they were saying." Oliver Queen said to his colleague Roy 'Speedy' Harper. Together they had taken cover with the crew from the forward half of the sub. The great wave had carried the Sea Tiger deep inland to the edge of the coastal plain where the landscape sharply changed rising from the flatlands to the distant mountains. Here a great verdant forest grew. It was behind the first of these trees that he and others had escaped, emerging from the forward hatch during the Ha-Mazon's first raid.

Above the broken boat the Pterosaurs swept lower once more. These Knights screaming as they saw one of their number fall. Gunned down by automatic fire. These women now cast caution aside, returning to attack, targeting the Sailors who had returned fire with their small arms.

Queen watched perturbed as he saw how the fallen Ha-Mazon's weapon continued to fire at Bob Crane. The uncontrolled discharge of energy exploded exponentially engulfing the man, and so very quickly the aft section of the Sea Tiger.

It was as this happened that the Ha-Mazon's shouts grew all the louder and the more panicked.

Speedy Harper agreed with his friend. "I don't know Ollie, but they sure sound worked up about it." The smaller man shielded his eyes from the glare coming from the uncontrolled Atlantean weapon.

Terry Sloane had been quiet, but as ever intense in his expression. "Oliver they're saying something about the weapon going into overload."

"What?" Speedy asked the young genius inventor and engineer. "You understand these crazy dames lingo?"

"Enough." Sloane said. He shrugged. "I did some work for Alsos." He paused guessing Oliver Queen and Roy Harper knew enough about the program to understand, because this wasn't the place or time for a more complete explanation. "Those weapons apparently draw their power from a central source." Sloane continued listening intently to the cries from the Ha-Mazon. "That out of control Lance is draining this... they call it the Gem. Their... Queen is saying they have to stop it." Sloane shrugged. "That's the gist of what they're shouting."

True to his interpretation of the Ha-Mazon's cries, the tall warriors braved the gunfire from below to target their own weapon. Firing bolts at the out of control Lance. It was then the aft section of the broken Submarine exploded.

-'S-

Superman watched the Tyrannosaur toss back it's head to better swallow the squawking Lizard Luthor. It was a fitting fate for the treacherous Chimera. However as the great dinosaur gagged the Man of Tomorrow realised that this grisly end was not so simple. The Changeling's form seem to liquefy in the beast jaws, and raw pink tendrils ran like mercury across the terrible predators snout, snaking out along it's head. No, Superman thought in surprise, these pink fingers, these tendrils, off shoots from the undifferentiated mass in the carnivores jaws were growing into the Tyrannosaur like accelerated roots burrowing into the ground. Even in the jaws of this monster predator the strange alliance between human and reptile wasn't giving up. Already aware of gunshots from the Submarine's crash site, the Man of Steel now felt he had no choice but to fly to the Sea Tiger. That he must to leave the Chimera and the Carnivore to their fate. Whatever that was to be. Who would triumph? Superman wondered to himself, and despite it's vast size, his gut suspected 'The Light' might yet rise again.

As Superman arrived at the crash site, an explosion engulfed the aft section of the stranded American boat. The Man of Tomorrow hovered above the fractured Sea Tiger as he faced the flying Armada of Ha-Mazons. He could hear the cheers of the American Sailors below.

Already the Venturians quickly directed their flying mounts. The Pterosaur Knights regrouping following the shock wave from below. Superman's sudden arrival giving this aerial Calvary a new target. Better me than the sailors, he thought, and in that moment Superman was illuminated by a multitude of barbed bolts of lightening, the bolts from the Atlantean Lances. The Man of Steel hung in the air, at the centre of this onslaught.

"It tickles!" He laughed off the assault. His baritone echoing across the sky, both a taunt and a rebuke. Below he could hear Captain Sherman directing his remaining men to take cover in the tree line.

The Ace of Action dived forward targeting the leading figure among these Pterosaur Knights. He needed to keep their attention to facilitate the sailors escape. This leader of the women warriors didn't flinch as he flew toward her, rather she held her trident aloft. The thrice pointed spear began to bleed energy from its treble prongs like whisps of smoke. It was then Superman felt the old magic of Posideon pulling at him. He was a man, and like every man water constituted the greater part of his body. Superman had never felt such agony as the Trident sought to draw this from out of him. His incredible Kryptonian physiology was no defence against such powerful magic.

-'S'-

As the Submarine's aft section exploded, Queen, Harper and Sloane urged the sailors to retreat deeper into the trees. Taking advantage of this moment the handful of souls from the aft of the boat made a break for cover. Queen saw Sherman and Holden taking the rear.

Speedy poked him and pointed upwards. There against the blue of the sky was the broad red sail of Superman's cape billowing behind him. Stretching outwards taking on the distinctive outline of his five sided shield in the air above the broken Sea Tiger. As the Pterosaurs beat their vast leathery wings to him Queen felt something hard and pointed press into the small of back. This time it wasn't Harper.

More foreign words spilled from behind him. A woman's voice, cool and commanding. His heart sank.

Sloane raised his hands and said. "She says if we're enemies of the Ha-Mazon's Queen Clea of Venturia then they offer us friendship in the name of Queen Eeras of Aurian."

Oliver frowned, then said. "Funny way to say 'hello buddy', a pig sticker in the back."

Either side of him tall women slipped silently from the trees shadows. In every way the equal of the towering Venturians. Oliver Queen smiled broadly like a child at Christmas, they carried bows. Thinking of the Ha-Mazon's lances he wondered what this might mean.

His first thoughts were confirmed moments later. The Aurian's fitted arrows to their strings, and let loose the barbed projectiles. As if by magic each arrow ignited in the air, becoming a flaming comet. He watched as there new found allies fired volley after volley of flaming arrows into the air. He pointed saying to Harper. "It's like the Venturian's Lances, old style weapons, with a futuristic punch."

For the Americans this counter attack couldn't come a moment too soon. Arrows exploded in the air, like concussion grenades. The Venturians were driven back, their mounts sent tumbling on the back of wind displaced by the flaming Anturian darts. At the same time Superman tumbled from the air before them.

Harper snapped at Sloane. "Terry for God's sake tell them not to fire on our guy."

Sloane nodded, and hesitatingly spoke something that sounded something like the language of Atlantis to one of the Aurians who stood close by. He clearly hadn't used the spoken language before today. Still he made himself understood. Or at least it seemed that way Oliver thought.

There was an heated exchange, shortly Sloane nodded and bowed to the tall female, before turning back to his colleagues. "The Aurians say it wasn't their weapons that hurt Superman, but some magic Trident the other side uses."

Harper shook his head. "They would say that."

Oliver Queen was less hasty. "This could be the Trident, the WMD that the King of Tritonis warned us about."

"Okay, you might be right." Speedy said.

Sloane pointed. "Look more warriors – and they're men."

Queen followed Terry's extended finger. Sure enough what had to be Aurian men were running forward from the woods, these sword wielding soldiers weren't exceptionally tall like their women, but they wore similar Greek like armour. Their role was apparently limited to gathering the fallen from around the broken submarine. As the men worked the taller female warriors kept up a covering barrage of exploding arrows. The Venturian Ptersaurs Knights were being driven ever further back as the sky became awash with red fire.

"Some anti-aircraft fire." Harper noted.

"Some kind of aircraft." Oliver chuckled, his laughter caught in his throat.

The Ha-Mazon's were not beaten. Even as the Aurian men took hold of the fallen submariners, carrying them clear and into the cover of the trees, some among them fell. Queen watched as for no discernible reason these foot soldiers shuddered, convulsed and fell dead where they stood. Bizarrely their comrades ignored them in favour of the Americans. Shocked by this self sacrifice Queen stepped forward intent to help, but a large feminine hand took hold of his shoulder as a mother might an errant child. She spoked a command to him, even as he struggled against her.

Sloane was good enough to translate. "She says that we can't leave the cover of the trees, all else bad magic from the Venturians will make our blood boil."

"What about their people?" Oliver asked.

Sloane conferred, translating again. "They know the risks, I don't understand it completely but they have some form of protection, that works most of the time, but when it doesn't – doesn't."

"It's a nasty way to go." Queen agreed. He still wondered why the Aurians collected their dead and wounded, but left their own behind.

The Aurians took hold of fallen figure of Superman. The caped man was carried into the trees in the hands of two soldiers, his face still like death. Captain Sherman, Lieutenant Holden, and Charles Grayson joined them. Already the Aurians were making ready to leave for the depths of the forest beyond.

Grayson shook his head sadly at Queen and said to Oliver. "Bob's gone." He gestured to ruins of the aft section of the Sea Tiger, which had been reduced to a multitude of fragments like broken glass.

Oliver Queen nodded. He put his hand on the scientist's shoulder. "I fear we'll all lose good friends before this war is done."

Grayson looked out across the sky to the distant towering city of Venturia. The Petrosaurs and the Knights they carried were retreating. The Ha-Mazons flew away back toward their home. Occasional bursts from fiery explosive volleys of the Aurian Archers followed them. It seemed the battle was over, for now.

Satisfied they had won the Aurians ceased their attacks. Only now did their foot soldiers walk out to collect their dead comrades. Grayson followed.

"Where are you going?" Terry Sloane asked the scientist. "You've a head wound and signs of smoke inhalation. You should rest."

"I'm going to find Bob." Grayson said. His eyes flashed defiantly. Queen could see there was no point arguing with the _roboticist_. Sloane didn't say what he was thinking, none of them did, it was obvious – Oliver couldn't imagine how there could be anything left of Crane's body, the poor man had been at the heart of that bright inferno, at the centre of the explosion. Equally he understood what Charles Grayson needed to do. So Queen stepped forward too. Lieutenant Holden joined them saying. "We're not leaving anyone behind."

"Especially the living." Sherman said as he stared out across the coastal plains to the impossibly tall Venturian citadel by the sea. "Good men have been carried off alive to the enemies fortress." The salt and pepper haired Captain explained. "We can't abandon them."

Oliver Queen nodded. "The Question is Sir, how are we going to do it?"

Sherman shook his head. At that moment the Aurian Warrior Women began gesturing forcefully that the Americans should follow them into their forest, Queen hesitated, but Grayson didn't, the robotocist ran back to the broken aft section of the sub, clearly intent to recover his friends remains.

The tall female Warrior closest shouted out angry. Again Sloane spoke hesitantly to the Aurian. She frowned but at last nodded and spoke quickly, before striding after Grayson. Sloane said by way of explanation. "She is going to help – they understand." He shrugged adding. "I think we have found some valuable allies."

"I hope you're right Mister Sloane." Captain Sherman said, looking across from the deathly still form of Superman and back to the Citadel of Venturia. "It looks like we're going to need all the help we can get."


	75. Chapter 75

1942 part 13

Bruised and battered, Diana felt the cool kiss of the sea revive her tired muscles. Awareness followed. She pulled away from the firm hand of the Sea King, and with a nod of thanks surfaced. At once she cast the eye of Artemis the Hunter across the sifting seas. The waves were painted red by the setting sun. Above the far away beach Wonder Woman watched the retreating Pterosaurs. Angrily she saw how so many of these flying lizards carried men in their taloned clutches.

Maddened she punched the water.

Her colleague surfaced beside her, and Diana pointed to the coast. "Look there is the fate of the Sea Tiger's crew." Then with regret Diana said to Aquaman. "Clea beat us."

"There is no doubt that Venturia's Queen possesses the Trident of Posideon." The Swimmer agreed. "That is an unfair advantage."

Diana nodded, remembering the hammer blow from the wave, the pain as the water in her body was pulled to Clea's will.

She sighed, thinking of her friends and new found colleagues. There was of course Steve Trevor, who could call her beautiful angel with a straight face, before flashing his charming smile with pleading eyes. Then there was the cool professional Colonel Darnel, whose pulse quickened when Wonder Woman entered the room. Was this their fate? Along with Captain Sherman and his sailors?

Diana knew of the mythology of the Ha-Mazon, here in their Atlantis men were slaves. If her friends lived, they were prisoners, no worse, she thought, they were prizes of war.

Arthur Curry took hold of her shoulder. She looked to him her jaw set with determination. Her blue eyes burned with vengeance. Aquaman said to her. "Be glad Clea's command over the elemental magic of water is incomplete, otherwise there would no escaping her."

Diana nodded she let the sea water trickle through her open fingers. "It seems we are two small fish in a big pond."

"You speak wisely daughter of Athena." Aquaman said. He added with less formal tone and a smile. "There are other bigger fishes in this sea." He pointed out across the water to where Diana spied the Typhon's vessel the Kraken. It was returning to the port of towering citadel of Venturia.

"Princess, I still have business with a Nazi Pirate called Black Jack Fange."

"Of course." Wonder Woman replied. "That would be an excellent place to start."

"A Trojan horse to enter Venturia?" The Sea King observed.

Diana smiled. "My thoughts exactly."

-'S'-

The coming together of the heroes deep beneath the Los Angeles Hills was at once both historic and urgent. Lois Lane and Delores De Winters watched them greet each other. It was an embarrassing mixture of machismo, and boyish glee at meeting face to face, names often whispered, rarely reported by serious news channels. Though some, like the Mighty Atom's exploits had made it into the broad sheets. Lane reflected on the Chief's light editorial touch when it came to the actions of the Mystery Men. Taylor had insisted on it. The Daily Star was a serious newspaper, not one of those picture heavy, comic book tabloids, packed with stories about ghosts aliens and bigfoot. Despite the Mystery Men's valiant activities, there was much public scepticism over the existence of super heroes. Even the Metropolis Marvel, perhaps especially Superman, with all his many abilities, was regarded as an urban myth.

Lois understood that it was a balancing act with truth losing out to credibility and national security.

Lois remembered that the best photographs of the Man of Steel were grainy distance shots, the work of Jimmy Olsen at Metropolis Field during the Flamebird débâcle. Needless to say vested interests, both political, military and industrial, preferred the theft and destruction of these prototype aircraft was something to best forgotten.

There was pressure from high up to stop printing Superman headline stories.

Lois sometimes wondered about her governments intentions and fondness for secrecy, and she did so once again as she watched Special Agents – Spies - Sally Norris and Bart Regan being introduced to the Vigilante. Slam Bradley shook the cowboy's hand as did Tex Thompson. Then there was New York's dark red costumed Crimson Avenger, and in contrast, but the same style was the old gold colours of his partner Wing's garb. They stood with the lithe youth, Silvester Pemberton and the big man Pat Dugan, These colleagues of Regan and Norris were new faces to Lois, and Lane made a mental note of the codenames Stars and Stripes, adding them to her Mystery Men Lexicon.

Lois reflected that despite their individual valour the Mystery Men's colourful stories went largely untold, often misreported in those comic book tabloids that George Taylor hated so much. Law enforcement was torn between prosecuting them and taking the credit for their work. Since America entered the war the serious papers, like the Star, were filled with news from the front. Column inches dedicated to a different kind of hero, the men who wore the colours of service in the defence of democracy and freedom. This story of a hidden city, and the ghostly Ultra Humanite reborn wouldn't be told today, or even tomorrow. Maybe she thought, long after the war is done, just maybe someone somewhere would be able to write it down – the history of this secret war, fought away from the public eye, against forces unimaginable.

"Hello Miss Lane."

Lois turned around – the voice belonged to the Sandman. He doffed his signature hat in greeting. His mask hung around his neck. She found his face familiar, but she couldn't place him. She was certain a hour or so in the Star's picture library would fix that. Yet this was war. It was an important as any battle any where, and the girl reporter understood what this meant. She respected the trust these men place in her, what in these circumstance each felt able to share. She decided that she would allow them as much mystery as they felt appropriate.

"Sandman." Lois said. "I didn't expect to find you on the East Coast."

He smiled enigmatically. "I wish I could say the same."

She followed the direction of his gaze. "What going on?" Lane asked. The main chamber of Ultra's lair was dominated by the huge door frame, it's iron gates open, revealing a vortex of dark purple shadows. It was unnerving to watch.

"That is a portal to another Realm." The Sandman said.

Lois suspected it was something like that, but knowing it didn't make the strange whirlpool of purple shadows any less intimidating. Yet this wasn't the main area of activity. Rather the men had gathered around an entrance to a sealed room. A heavy steel door closed off an antechamber to this the main gallery in the lair.

"What are they doing?" Deedee asked.

"Doctor Fate is using his knowledge of magic to gain access to Ultra's vault." The Sandman explained.

Lois looked for the golden helm she remembered so vividly. "Where is he?" She asked.

The Sandman pointed him out.

Lois almost commented on the lack of Fate's signature costume. The blond man the others called Fate was wearing dirty torn blue suit. He looked like a guy who had been through a hard time. Then again she reflected hadn't they all?

Lois glanced down at her own disbelieved appearance, and sighed, thinking, I'm no better. She managed a smile for Deedee. De Winters shrugged and returned a cheeky grin. There wasn't any room for pride here, after being kidnapped and imprisoned in stone dungeon, the two of them remained a matched pair. Sally Norris, the third member of their impromptu triumvirate stood alongside Bart Regan watching Doctor Fate work.

Time past. Lois grew frustrated. The Sandman remained stoic. Deedee shifted impatient, glancing at the vortex through the portal.

"Forgive me, but he seems to be somewhat frustrated." The actress observed.

Another costumed Doctor – Midnite stood over the form of Cyclotron. Terry Curtis had been brought unconscious to them by the Atom. The stocky hero had reported that Ultra's robot henchmen were down, destroyed. Midnite was trying to find out what had happened since the Atom had been taken from the cell they had shared.

Lois switched her attention to this conversation.

"I did it Doc." The short square man said. "Hit one right out of the park, then this guy," he pointed to the Vigilante, "he shot the other in the eye, put that fire out just like that."

Lane found this story most odd.

So apparently did Midnite. "Just how did you do that?" He asked self evidently concerned.

Lois understood his consternation. The Automatons were nothing if not durable, she had seen other versions of Ultra's robots battle Superman. It was nothing short of miraculous that the cowboy and the diminutive pugilist could out shoot and out punch Ultra's mechanical men.

That they were here, with a subdued Cyclotron, and the Automatons weren't - proved their story. Fantastic as it was. Good news, certainly she decided. Unsettling too, in equal measure.

Midnite crystallised her concerns. He said to the Atom. "Clearly Ultra's experimentation has done something to you."

"I didn't feel any stronger after... what happened." Johnny Quick told the smaller man. Lois's mental directory of the reported active Mystery Men identified the speedster by his distinctive red and yellow costume. More striking was how tired and drawn Quick looked, he appeared to be a sick man. In stark contrast the Atom almost glowed with vitality.

Something was hepped out here she thought. The Mighty Atom was as tough as a tough-guy comes, but he wasn't tough like Superman or fast like Johnny Quick and the similarly powered Flash from Keystone City. To her knowledge he wasn't a 'super'.

"It seems odd that Ultra would leave with just Curtis and the two robots as guards – don't you think?" She asked the Sandman.

"It does seem Ultra no longer commands the resources of his former organisation." The Sandman said. Adding after a considered pause. "My instincts – dreams to be truthful, suggest that this personality calling itself the Ultra Humanite is diminished in many ways."

The Sandman explained how a ghost of what had been the Ultra Humanite had taken bodily form.

"That's whacked." Lois stated. "But then again I never thought the original version was entirely sane."

The Sandman shrugged. "What is madness, what is genius? The first Ultra thought his ends justified the means."

Lois frowned. She had almost died, more than once, then again the gods are never loath to take the lives of mortals.

"This Ultra Humanite is experimenting on people." Lois replied. "Heroes in particular – right?"

The Sandman nodded. "That tells part of what we need to know. What we need to do – well the answers for some of us at least lay inside that vault."

A loud clang from that steel door made her turn back to where Sally and Regan stood. Lois realised that Fate had hit the vault door in frustration. Could it be unlike Superman that Fate's special abilities hinged upon his costume? Lois put two and two together, and drew her own conclusions.

Lois heard the Atom express his frustration – colourfully - with the progress of his colleagues.

She saw the distinctive costume of Tex Thompson – Mr America, try and restrain him, but the tall athletic man was brushed aside by the smaller Atom, and from his face the set of his shoulders Lois saw he meant to take matters into hand. Then the Atom launched himself at the vault door.

It seemed a vain effort born of anger and impatience. Much like Doctor Fate. A flash of light and resounding crash followed instantly. The door broke from the concrete surround, swinging inwards, buckled and broken, opening away from the Atom. The large room was filled with dust, and a rain of particulates.

"Wow." Deedee said, cowering her hands over her ears. "Big things do come in small packages."

"Quite." Lois said stunned. Shaking her head, she brushed the dust from her skirt.

"Well Doctor Midnite." The Atom said. "You asked me what I could do." The short man said after rolling to his feet.

The Dark cloaked man shook his head. The sound of wonder audible in his voice. "This is incredible."

"I hear the Helm of Nabu!" Doctor Fate cried out pointing into the shadows. The dark vault was impenetrable to Lois's human eyes. She heard nothing. Fate stepped forward and inside as the dust around about them swirled.

Doctor Midnite stepped after him, coming to a stand still in the portal. Raising his fist as much to say wait to any that followed him and Fate through the opening. He stood looking as the suited man stumbled into the vault, apparently guided by a voice only he could hear.

"Can you see anything?" Sally Norris asked the caped Doctor.

Midnite replied. "Yes, wonderful things."

-'S'-

As darkness fell, the distant sun dipping below the seas blue horizon, Diana's lasso caught hold onto the smooth surface of the Kraken magically adhering to the otherwise mirror like finish. The boat skimmed above waves, returning to the port of Venturia, but it did so slowly. Evidence Diana supposed of the damage inflicted in the earlier battle. She flew herself to the hull of the ancient vessel. Aquaman caught hold of the trailing fine gold line and climbed towards the metallic skin of the vast boat. Diana removed her Tiara, the discus of Apollo had many qualities and forged into this golden band was magic older than Olympus. Wonder Woman used the enchanted band to slice into the adamant hull of the Kraken, creating an opening for both her and the Sea King to enter within, pushing the metal inwards like a tin lid. Slipping inside they entered the bowels of the ancient vessel, and into the dark interior revealing the Kraken's secret.

An irregular structure filled the uniform hull. A fortress of sorts nestling within the adamant armour. Diana recognised the strange metallic pearl like sheen of its walls, and the upper section with its guns and towers. This had been revealed when the hull had opened like a huge carapace during the earlier battler with the Sea Tiger. Now Wonder Woman and Aquaman saw how this upper section was mirrored below.

Towers reached both upwards and down, the widest and narrowest part of the Fortress corresponding to the middle of the flattened egg shaped hull. The void between the structure and the adamant shell was too narrow to stand in. She and the Swimmer crouched in what was a crawl space at best, and in places the gap was tighter still.

The Sea King inspected the structure. His hand brushing the _pearlescent_ sheen.

"It's like sea shell to the touch." Aquaman observed. "In places perhaps coral."

"I have heard tell of this." Diana replied. "Both in the Amazon Annals and from Superman. The Typhon, the reptiles that call themselves Annunki, grow their dwellings, their tools, even their machines. This structure – this fortress, it has been grown within the confines of this adamant hull."

Aquaman nodded, and turning back to the outer metal, he pointed to the uneven interior surface of the hull. "This blistering suggests at some time something else occupied this space."

"And that interior was removed, then replaced by this living structure." Diana agreed.

"Like a great hermit crab." The Sea King observed. "Taking over an abandoned tin can for its own."

Aquaman crouched down and looked down the curving uneven hull's interior. "There Diana." He pointed down through the gloom, his eyes able to pierce the dark of the ocean depths easily peered through the shadows between the interior structure and the outer hull. "See how the Annunki structure has grown around something.

"Yes." Diana replied as stretching to follow his gesture. "Perhaps this is where the new meets the old – the original."

"I wonder what they kept – what that was?" Aquaman pondered. He then looked at Structure. "But that will have to wait. We need to gain access." His fingers curled into a fist. He hesitated, saying. "If this is alive then...?"

"You're right, if we force our way inside – if we hurt it, we'll probably give ourselves away." Diana agreed, touching the living Fortress.

"I sense life, simple life, but I can't connect to it, this isn't truly aquatic in nature." The Sea King noted.

"You're right, it's neither plant nor animal, but something different." Diana gestured to Aquaman to follow her. The two began their search for an entrance.

-'S'-

Doctor Fate illuminated the chamber, light spilling from his gilded helm pouring from his golden cloak, his sky blue costume shone like the brightest day. He hung in the air, close to the high ceiling.

Lois felt like Howard Carter in the Tomb of Tutankhamen. In trepidation she entered, ever the determined reporter, and never one to miss an experience. Deedee followed, if only not to be left alone.

It was a big room. Objects were arranged carefully. To her it seemed like a windowless museum, filled with glimmering metal, and gold – lots of gold. There were statues and paintings, tapestries and clothes; rich embroidered robes to dark cloaks hung on mannequins.

"This vault contains the West Coast horde of the Ultra Humanite." Doctor Fate's voice was different, deeper, older, more sonorous. Lois found it so much changed as to sound like different person entirely. This was the man she remembered.

The Magic Master floated deeper into the chamber, as he did some of the collected objects began to glow, others did not.

Regan asked the question. "Why are some of these things lit up?"

Fate answered. " Special Agent, these items that luminesce, have power. Those that don't – do not.

"However they do have both great value and antiquity. These are relics that point to, or reveal mysteries, but they are not in themselves magic." Doctor Fate explained. He continued to sweep the room, Lois decided he was basically testing, feeling his way object by object assessing what exactly the Ultra Humanite had collected here.

She watched as the long golden cape hung still. There before Fate a set of objects arranged separately from the rest, now burned more brightly than any of the others. They had been given both more space and by implication importance. Lois could see the reason. Power stones, she was certain of it. The red glow from the ruby like jewels eclipsed all else.

A voice called out back to them. "Stop it!" Terry Curtis staggered into the room. Doctor Midnite followed him.

"Stay there fella." The Vigilante warned him. "I don't want to shoot you again."

"Curtis." Midnite said. "You're not recovered – Please sit down."

"You don't understand." Curtis wailed.

"I understand exactly." Doctor Fate said. "He swept to the vault door. Light from his helm flickering as objects once again shone bright in his presence.

It was then Lois saw that Vigilante's guns were glowing too. It was as if they were reacting to the proximity of Doctor Fate. She guessed it could only mean one thing.

Fate addressed Curtis. "You believe your child is teetering on the edge of death, that only the power of the Ultra Humanite keeps her alive."

"Yes." Terry Curtis gasped.

"The Helm of Nabu sees all." Fate intoned. "I have seen imprinted in the walls of this chamber, in the body of these collected trinkets Ultra's intentions. She left them like pyschic fingerprints as she formed her nefarious plans."

"What are saying?"

"You have been deceived." Fate said.

"How?" Curtis asked in hoarse shocked whisper.

Doctor Fate looked down at Curtis. "The child you think is yours is but a changeling – a creation of Ultra's reptilian allies. Your daughter is in robust health. In fact she was hidden from you by Ultra, only to be carried away by your master."

"Where is Terri?" Curtis roared. Power surged through Cyclotrons form.

"Ultra took your child to Venturia. She was carried hidden by the Naga Warriors, who followed their masters."

"Why – why would Ultra take Terri to the lost realm?"

"Ultra knows your child's blood is the key that will release the Great Heart of Atlantis to him."

Curtis bowed his head in silent shock and rage. Whispering, "Terri's blood?"

"The what?" Regan asked.

"The Heart Stone is the source of Venturians power." Fate responded. "Centuries ago the great Mages of Atlantis combined power stones containing the individual colours of magic into a single Gem of such power that all devices, both magical and technical could be driven remotely from this single Orb of Power.

"This bounty was shared among the peoples of the continent, until the Ha-Mazon's made war. They wanted to control the Heart for themselves, and it was this war that ultimately brought about Atlantis's destruction."

"My Terri!" Curtis wailed. "How can she be a key?"

"You know more about this than anyone." Fate responded.

Cyclotron looked blank for a moment and then seized on the answer. "Her unique atomic make up." Curtis spluttered. "You don't mean..."

"She has the potential." Fate responded. "Is that so surprising – seeing what happened to you?"

"The great Power Stone of Zeus." Curtis growled.

"Yes. It was infused into your being by the explosion that destroyed the Light's LAZER death ray."

Fate then told him.

"Another man would had died, but you did not because you are a descendant of Atlantis Terrence Kurtzenberg now called Curtis, your ancestors escaped Atlantis's fate, now the Ultra Humanite will use your daughters power stone infused Atlantean blood to break the spell that binds the Heart Stone."

"Ultra is going to kill her not save her." Curtis spat as the awful realisation struck home to the scientist. "Terri!" He roared her name this time, and the room shook as his green luminescence returned all the brighter.

The Vigilante levelled his guns. "Don't know how this works Doc, but last time I shot him he went down like a stone – just say the word."

"Hold fast." Fate said to the Cowboy. "Curtis. Which of these here tested true." The Magic Master asked.

Cyclotron seemed almost to smoulder. Lois thought he looked ashamed. Then as he looked towards Doctor Fate his radium like brilliance faded back somewhat as he apparently considered the question.

"I see your logic." Curtis said, adding. "Those that have manifested powers already obviously carry the marker, but of the others, well, the Atom..."

"Yes." Doctor Midnite said impatiently. "That much has become obvious." He pointed to the broken vault door. Lois agreed it was evidence enough of a major transformation. The Atom was now a super. The thought captured her imagination, a normal man – a normal woman could perhaps become like Superman, maybe even be his equal.

"So that's what happened." The Atom said with a grin. "It's like you thought Doc." he said to Midnite. "It's my exposure to Cyclotron's powers."

"Twice - and between times the Spectre healed you, and then yet more power from Ultra's equipment." Midnite added. "You've been through a lot." The Doctor mused.

Curtis had meantime collapsed to his knees. He was overcome, muttering. "Terri." over and over again.

Lois saw the Vigilante frown. He looked at his luminescent guns, span them and holstered the still glowing peacemakers. His expression made her curious. She remembered the Atom's story. How the Vigilante had shot an Automaton cold – literally, snuffing out the fiery heart of the machine with an ice like bullet.

"What about me." The Vigilante asked. He stood nonchalant, but his voice was stiff – controlled. Lois knew a brave man when she saw one. She regretted her greeting when he'd saved her, Deedee, and Sally.

"Your guns have been altered." Doctor Fate replied. "As have you, but not in the way you fear."

"Altered how?"

"The Atom himself has been changed, his strength exponentially magnified. However the power Ultra harnessed from the Blood Stones did not affect you the same way."

"Yeah – it struck my irons, not me."

Lois saw the Cowboy pat his still glowing six shooters.

"Sometimes a man maybe changed by magic. Sometimes an object is enchanted because of the man."

"Not following you." The Vigilante said crossing his arms.

Fate continued unabashed. "Your guns now respond to your will. Your guns can change the everyday bullets you load them with."

"Change, how so?"

Fate elaborated. "Changed into a more appropriate force than hot lead."

The Magic Master spread out his hands. "Remember In the case of Automaton, your bullet fired cold and blue. It extinguished the Machines fire. In the case of Cyclotron you struck him down but not dead."

"Magic bullets?" The Vigilante asked. He laughed at the thought of it.

"Within limits, yes you posses the magic bullet needed to bring down a foe, but you must possess the knowledge and imagination to understand what is required. Ignorance will not do it. A lucky guess – well that can, as it was with the Automaton – you imagined that cold will stop hot, and in this case that worked. But you will always need a steady hand and a good eye to aim any shot good and true."

"Limits." Vigilante took his Stetson off and laughed. "There always a catch."

Lois thought he seemed relieved that unlike the Atom he had not been changed bodily in something more than human. Again Lane thought about her own Superman.

"Magic is not that magical." Doctor Fate replied. "There is always limits." He placed his golden gloved hand on the shoulder of the weeping scientist. Cyclotron looked up at Fate. The Doctor saying. "Tell them about Terry."

Curtis nodded, saying. "The blood tests Ultra took showed that Permberon and Dugan are the next best fit."

"Fit for what?" The big man Dugan demanded.

"Indeed." Sylvestor Pemberton began where his friend left off. "So you're saying we were next on the list for these experiments of yours."

Cyclotron nodded.

Doctor Fate held out his hands. His deep altered and otherworldly voice echoed through the vault. "I have seen your fate gentlemen, a possible future. You still have a choice – you can walk away, or you can embrace the objects of power that will answer to your touch." Doctor Fate stated.

"What do you mean?" Dugan asked.

"Simply not every man can wield a weapon of magical power, and even those that can, may not be able to properly exploit or control the power that object might embody."

"Like Arthur drawing the Sword from the Stone." Sly Pemberton suggested.

"Exactly, both only answer the touch of the right hand." Fate stated.

"I ain't no royalty." Dugan remarked. "Maybe Pemberton III here is, kinda, but..."

"You are a remarkable." Curtis said. His words seemed to carry more weight because he glowed all the more brightly as he said them.

"And what am I? Yesterdays news?" Slam Bradley asked. He stood next to Dugan. Lois reflected the two men were similar in build, although Bradley was perhaps the more handsome.

Curtis shook his head. "All of you here have potential. I mean to say Ultra has only just begun to try and understand how super powers arise, but Ultra theorised that whatever made you bold enough to stand up and be counted - what made you tough enough to keep going when the going got tough - was perhaps _part_ of the reason why there is suddenly a new age of heroes. The first for many years. Ultra figured some of you would respond to the _red_ power of Blood Stones better than others."

Doctor Fate hovered beside Pemberton and the taller Dugan."

"By using the Blood Stones Ultra is tapping into what remains of the old magic, the same magic that created the beings men for aeons called the gods." He explained, and indicated to the array of magical relics. "Here are objects that will respond to your particular aura."

Fate looked at Slam Bradley. "All of you should take the time to inspect these artefacts, perhaps you will find one that responds to you."

"Well that's something I guess." Bradley acknowledged.

"All of us?" Deedee asked. "What do you mean. I'm no soldier."

"Is that true Miss De Winters?" Fate asked. "Don't Fate and circumstances make soldiers of the least of us?"

"Perhaps, it's just I want so much to go home." Deedee said. "Because I really need a bath right now."

"Unfortunately none of us can leave this underground complex." Doctor Fate announced.

"What?" The Vigilante asked. "I found the way here by myself, I'm damn sure I could find the way out again."

"It's not that simple." Fate replied.

"How so." Lois asked.

The golden Helm dipped towards them and the deep voice replied. "When Ultra opened the doorway to Venturia magical seals that once kept these hidden catacombs secret and secure were reactivated. Had you come any later Vigilante, you would have not have gained access."

"Can't you lift these... seals?" Deedee asked.

"No."

"Then what?" Lois shrugged exasperated. "We're trapped?"

"In this sense – yes." Fate told her. "Only when the portal to Venturia is closed, can we leave."

"So how do we close it?" The Vigilante asked the question straight and clear. Lois felt the sense of common agreement among them all.

Doctor Fate gestured to the larger Chamber where the purple vortex still churned. "Only the one who opened the door can close it."

"So what you're saying is that to get out of here, we've got to follow the Ultra Humanite to Venturia, and make her come back and close the door behind her?" The Vigilante concluded.

Doctor Fate nodded.

"And rescue Terri." Curtis added with force of words and radium like radiance. "We have to rescue my daughter."

"You're the guy that was working with Ultra." Tex Thompson said forcefully.

"To save my daughter." Curtis counted.

Thompson frowned, but there was little else he or anyone could say Lois realised. A child's life was at stake. "In similar circumstances what would any of us do?" She asked.

"I know Lois." Thompson agreed. "It just grates a little, treachery I mean." He looked at the downcast Curtis.

"Aw shucks." The Cowboy Hero said loudly, donning his white Stetson once more. "Defeating the bad guys, rescuing a kid." He looked at Doctor Fate. "There is no way anyone here is going to let an innocent baby girl come to harm is there now?"

Fate hovered above them in silence. Each man and woman looked to the other. No one spoke.

The Vigilante said with a sigh and a smile. "Yeah I had it figured it was going to be this a way."


	76. Chapter 76

1942 part 14

Wotan concentrated on the crystalline swastika. It was a complex three dimensional carving the size of a soccer ball mounted on a golden stand. Placed in the stone crypt, the chapel heart of the Nazi's occult temple. The triangular fortress that was Castle Wewelsburg. As the Sorcerer concentrated his brow furrowed, and magical energies flowed. Sparking between his outstretched palms hovering either side of the crystal, too and fro from the artefact, cycling pulses of blue green light flickering and sparking. Wotan's face was illuminated from below, the strange green tone of his skin all the more alien in the shadowy crypt.

Light spilled from the centre of the orb, and in the darkness reflected off the silver detailing of the otherwise invisible coven of black uniformed SS officers. Among them leading men in the Nazi government. Summoned in secret to this place to witness their pagan god embodied, their secret weapon's growing magical power.

Finally the cloaked olden god, broke his meditation. The harsh light from the crystal swastika faded as the interplay between the sorcerer and the object of power ended. As the ever present darkness closed in candles burst spontaneously into flame. There was no let up in the drama of this ceremony.

SS Colonel Karl Wiligut, his face the pallor of death waits patiently until the malachite features of Wotan turn to him fixing the Occult Officer's eyes with his own coal hot orbs. Then the older round faced man bowed his head and spoke respectfully.

"Lord Wotan what of the Allies most special Agents?"

"Many of them are absent or invisible to me still."

One of the Nazi Officers spoke up, concern in his voice. "And all the while there is no word from our people - from Jakob Fange or the Light?"

Wotan laughed at the high ranking Nazi. "Are you asking me if Black Jack is too busy playing at Pirate with our aquatic allies? Or do you mean, can we trust Herr Lex Luthor's Chimera to handle Ultra Humanite?" The Sorcerer's fiery stare flickering like the candles from face to face. Even these cruel men blanched under the heat of the greater evil's eye. He could see they feared he could read their mind, their intentions. Wotan reflected they had good reason to be afraid.

Another man said. "What of the raid on St. Naraire? Surely that was not the work of common soldiers?"

There was mumbled whispering among the men.

"I think it was." Wiligut replied.

Wotan knew the old man was right. The British Commando Raid on the French port had been executed without supernatural assistance.

Wiligut quickly indicated to others to be quiet – to show their occult master respect. "My Lord ." He began. "Reports from fifth columnists in America say many heroes including the Superman, and the Wonder Woman, had not been seen for many weeks." Wiligut stated. "This is why we ask." He cleared his throat, and spoke plainly. "Are these superheroes absent from your visions because they are in fact attacking our agents in the other world?" Wiligut bowed his head, this was the question that needed an answer.

"The portal remains open." Wotan replied.

His superiors were not satisfied, because they did not understand his answer. Wotan could see it. Like hungry wolves these Nazi warlords flashed their smiles. Nervously baring their teeth. False bravado.

Wotan smiled. "Gentleman, Atlantean energies from the Heart Stone continue spill into this world. This means our people, and our allies are still in Venturia. It means that the bridge between worlds remains open."

Wotan held up his hand, and addressed the Officers concerns.

"Perhaps enemy agents have entered Venturia, once the portal was opened for us, that was always possible. Indeed likely given the existence of Allied Magicians, however I assure you that as long as the Ultra Humanites portal between realms remains open it can only mean that our people have the upper hand in Venturia."

Wotan saw his words comforted these assembled men. He added a caution.

"An operation of this kind demands much patience."

"It has been a long time." Noted a disgruntled voice.

"I must remind you that for our agents it has only been a matter of hours." Wotan snapped. The speaker visibly shook as the words reverberated around the chamber. There was a limit to the Dark Lords patience – even with Generals of Third Reich.

Wiligut nodded and said to his colleagues. "Time travels more slowly in these other realms."

"Lord Wotan." The latest speaker was thin in face and body, an SS Officer whose uniform bear the insignia of Obergruppenführer. He continued. "What of your investment in the final solution?"

Wotan looked directly at General Reinhard Heydrich chief of the RSHA, the Reich Main Security Office, and chairman of Wannsee Conference. Wotan of course knew of the meeting in the Berlin Suburb that had sealed the fate of those the National Socialists regarded as inferior. This man was the author of the Final Solution.

"Naturally the blood sacrifice has value." Wotan stated. "However that is mitigated by the bloods quality, and more because I must expend my energy concealing this program, the camps in Belzec, Treblinka, and Sobibor in Poland**, **from the allies visionaries who might detect these operations by occult means."

Heydrich replied. "This action is necessary." He looked to his colleagues saying justifying using their secret weapon of magical domination thus. "The ignorant masses are not interested, nor need they be burdened with details of the decisions we make on their behalf.

"For that reason the Security Services ensure the work of camps does not draw undue attention. However the Fuhrer is aware that this sensible measure to ensure our races purity could be used against the Reich, for propaganda purposes should it become public knowledge in the Allied nations. The Fuhrer still hopes the English speaking peoples will see sense and sue for peace."

"If they do not?" Wiligut asked.

Heydrich smiled. "Then they will be liberated by the informed government of the glorious thousand year Reich."

-'S'-

The man grabbed his brief case and exited the New York Cab, donning his fedora as he stepped onto the sidewalk. He then climbed the adjacent steps. The street was filled with notable town houses, this brownstone was sited in the neighbourhood of Morningside Heights, Manhattan, north of Central Park.

Removing the dark glasses, his hat and the long trench coat, a little unnecessary now April's showers had past and May was nearly done, Bruce Wayne emerged from his daylight disguise.

"Didn't you bring the Rolls?" Carter Hall asked.

Bruce shook his head. The millionaire playboy had often used his apartment in the Wayne Holdings owned building prior to settling down with long suffering fiancé Julie Madison, now Mrs Wayne. Adopting a orphan boy shortly before the marriage had gone some way to rehabilitating the hell raiser reputation for champagne and women. An image the scion of the Wayne dynasty had managed to create in the short time since his return to Gotham in late 38, from Europe.

"Bruce Wayne doesn't come to the big Apple as much these days." He adopted a hint of an Irish lilt, with heavy dose of Brooklyn as he spoke, and then taking Carter's outstretched hand he switched to his true voice. "Matches Malone however is just another face in the crowd."

"Glad you could come in person Bruce. I know you don't like playing at secret societies."

"With so many of us missing, I couldn't do much else. I might not like the idea of a hero club, but I can't resist a mystery."

Carter led the Dark Knight Detective into the meeting room of the Justice Battalion. Taking his chairman's seat at the round table of these latter day Knights, it didn't take a detective to note the empty places.

Bruce nodded politely at Hawk Girl, Carters wife, Shiera, she like her husband was in civvies. As was Rex Tyler, who when masked used the codename Hour-Man. Cometh the hour cometh the man, Bruce thought as he checked his watch. Hour-Man was a chemically enhanced super-man, for an hour he was capable of superhuman athleticism, thanks to a formula that had so far only worked on Tyler. The time to begin the meeting was upon them. It was clear the empty spaces were not going to be filled.

There was no visible sign of the Spectre, however the temperature variation in the corner of the room to Bruce's right led him to the conclusion that the avenging angel was listening. He would appear when and if it was necessary. The almost omnipotent avenging angel was governed by unusual forces. Bruce remembered why he preferred solo work or at least his own Bat-family and his own rules.

Gotham's Detective looked up and saw the Flash had appeared as if by magic. He was in his distinctive red shirt with the yellow lightning bold motif, and blue pants. Jay took off his metal helmet, and placed it beside him.

Bruce frowned. The scarlet speedster was able to come and go with impunity. Superman's speed impacted on his environment. Bruce had trained himself to notice details, even looking for the impossible whisp of breeze as the Man of Tomorrow super speeded from place to place. Bruce was only human, but at least he could try to detect Clark's movements. Whatever force empowered Key Stone City's protector, insulated him from the lawful consequences of his abilities, at least according Physics as Wayne understood them.

As much as he hated that, today Bruce was glad to have Jay Garrick's reality bending powers at hand.

"There is no change in Los Angeles." The Flash reported. "The subterranean city is still sealed. Doctor Occult is still monitoring the situation, but he says the temporal anomaly created by the portal between worlds is too dangerous to disrupt." Jay lent forward. "We're not getting into Venturia that way."

Bruce wasn't surprised. Logically locking down the secret underground complex had to be all about the Ultra Humanite shutting the door behind him. He waited for the Spectre to offer up an alternative, when the Avenging Angel's presence remained silent Bruce also concluded that their had to be another way.

Carter Hall looked from the Flash to him saying. "There however remains what Bruce found in New York Chapter headquarters of the Brotherhood of the Light. Bruce if you would."

Wayne nodded. "As you know, the Crimson Avenger, Golden Wing, and the Sandman converged on the last reported sighting of 'The Light'. Subsequently Wayne Holdings secured the site for redevelopment. This allowed a certain Michael Malone ample opportunity to sift through what was left." Wayne pulled a folder from his briefcase and dealt pictures to his seated colleagues.

"This artefact was found in what was left of a secret room." Bruce explained. "As you see this heavy stone carving survived the fire unscathed."

Rex Tyler looked at the photo. "Was it a door way?" The Hour-Man asked. "It looks like it was built into the building's external wall."

"It was." Bruce replied. "But it didn't lead outside, or any where I could see for that matter."

Shiera Hall added. "The shape we believe is an Alpha and Omega combined. The top of inverted V meets a rounded O with feet." She looked at her husband. "Carter and I recall something like this from our past life memories."

Carter nodded. "What my wife means to say, we believe this to be an Atlantean Portal." He added with a warm lovers smile.

Bruce, ever serious, quickly moved forward saying. "It's more than just stone for sure. Initially I did some basic resistivity tests, running a current through it, those yielded some strange readings." He shrugged. "Since this was outside my usual field of expertise, I called in some help. Doctor Occult suggested I move it somewhere I could really put some power through the arch. So I did."

"Where?" Rex asked.

"Main generator room at Gotham Electric."

"And?" Hour-Man pressed.

"There was quite a light show."

Carter Hall looked to the Dark Knight. "While Bruce's experiments have established this Portal works, the problem remains locating the pocket universe. To that end I have contacted Gio Zatara." Carter explained.

Bruce added. "Gio called me from Gotham Electric before I came over here. He's pretty sure he knows how 'the Light' made this ancient Atlantean artefact work."

"Excellent perhaps we can discover the fate of our lost friends." Carter said.

"And bring them home." Shiera said. She looked at her husband clearly determined to make this happen.

Hour-Man nodded in agreement. He made a pointed gesture toward the empty chairs belonging to the Green Lantern and Star Man Rex Tyler said. "Maybe we can even find those friends lost out in the Atlantic?"

-'S'-

Ted Knight considered his predicament. Star Man was locked in a cell, his precious and mysterious cosmic rod had been taken from him. Powerful gas had knocked him out leaving him as sick as a dog. He had awoken sometime later, how long he couldn't tell, sealed inside this box like room. Alone and frustrated, time had passed slowly. Knight was down but not out, or so he'd thought. Jumping the guard that had brought his first meal had taught him something. The robed men he'd seen on the deck of the submarine fortress as it attacked the SS Beaver, weren't human. Oh sure, he laughed bitterly to himself, they could pass for people, clothed in their long robes and hoods, behind their plastic features. Their true faces were reptilian, with forked snake like tongues and sharp teeth.

Ted lay on his bunk and looked at his wrists. The bracelets he woke wearing were made of the same pearlescent material as the cell itself. There was no indication how they had been joined to his wrists. Worse, when he'd attacked his guard and seen his real snake like features emerge from the previously human face, he'd also felt unbearable pain. Agony that burned into his veins from these strange chain-less manacles. Cruel means of control.

All Ted knew was that he'd been captured by shape-shifters. Everything had seemed bleak until a few hours ago. Then the vessel he assumed he was still within had been rocked by explosions. He had heard noises of panicked inhuman shrieks, and Ted Knight had dared to hope.

-'S-

Diana and Aquaman ran along the silver pearl coloured corridor. Behind them was the hatch they had forced to gain access. There had been little choice. This seemed the best way into the interior Fortress structure of the Kraken. As they ran Diana listened. She heard the repetitive beat of feet, and something else, something sharp scraping, pause tap heel, tap toe, and scrape.

"Do you hear that?" Aquaman asked in a whisper.

She nodded. "I hear marching, a squad of men or similar, coming this way." Diana confirmed, adding. "We should hide."

Aquaman looked at her his question unspoken and obvious. Where?

Wonder Woman grasped hold of the Sea King and took flight. Arthur reacted calmly to being pushed into roof of the corridor. Diana held him against gravity, pressed to the cool smooth ceiling with her extended left arm. Wonder Woman had chosen the only hiding place available, the shadow of a pressure door. It wasn't long before she heard the guards running through, and towards the hatch where she and Arthur had forced entry.

Diana saw the guards. They abandoned any pretence. These were not the robed men they had seen on the Kraken's interior deck during the earlier fight with the Sea Tiger, but something else entirely. This new breed of Narga warriors were not included in the Amazon Chronicles. These Narga were chameleons. Able to change from human form into a more predatory shape. Long snouts with dagger teeth, their feet were in effect armed with huge talons, their hands remained almost human like as these held the chemical shell firing guns of their masters. As the Narga ran under them Arthur nodded to her. Diana let go, and he dropped away from their hiding place. Aquaman struck hard, barrelling into the back of the reptilians as they past beneath. At the same time Diana flew forward somersaulting to the fore, blocking the guards path.

Pellets snapped into the air around her, she deflected them as best she could, the explosive and acidic bullets more often than not breaking on the metal of her vambraces, only her unique constitution prevented the fire and the acid overcoming this Amazon Princess. All the while she held her breath, and hoped Aquaman had the sense to do the same. In the same seconds, the Sea King's tremendous strength sent the creatures reeling. At close quarters depriving them of their guns. Talons scraped his Atlantean armour, but the green gold metal mesh was strong enough to resist teeth and claws. As they fell to his rearward assault, their frontal attack faltered. Chemical guns stopped popping, allowing Diana to act. Her lasso snaked into their midst, even as her left hand and right leg felled two of them, she singled out the leader. Jerking him back to her in the confines of her lariat. Aquaman in that moment was done. This squad of guards were subdued, unconscious, bar their entwined captain.

Diana looked into the black beady eye of the shape-shifter officer. Calmly and without any menace, she spoke to him. She could have been ordering a coffee or asking the time of day, she said. "Tell me everything you know."

-'S'-

Superman awoke. Above him pin pricks of light were twinkling in the darkness. Automatically he began logging the relative positions of the stars and comparing them against his memories. He sighed, remembering in the same instant why nothing made sense why nothing was familiar.

Worse he was surrounded by the dead. These were the fallen Aurian Swordsmen.

"Good morning starshine. The Earth says hello."

Superman rose to his feet, so he could look Oliver Queen in the eye. He also noted he was the only American among the dead. He wondered where his fallen countryman had been taken and why he'd been placed here.

"Well, well. What's this?" The Man of Steel said. "Robin Hood and Will Scarlet?"

The blond haired man shook his head. "Not quite, and this ain't no Sherwood Forest either."

Superman knew what he meant. The trees grew so much taller and wider, with vast canopies of broad leaves. It was more rainforest meets Giant Red Woods by way of Sherwood. A land of strange giants. This was like no other forest, just as Venturia was like no other place on Earth; because, he reflected, it wasn't.

They were on the outskirts of a large hidden settlement. Superman marvelled at the way the Aurians had integrated their city invisibly into the forest. Plainly the Venturains and Aurians were closely related, but had a visibly distinct cultures. Evidenced by this dramatic woodland metropolis that was very different to the Venturians vertical city. The towering archology stood a challenge to nature. Impossibly tall and spreading. In contrast the Aurians had coaxed the trees of this forest bend and grow into shapes to serve them, blending into the rolling woodlands almost invisibly – part of the natural world. Technologically the two tribes were similar, but in execution very different. The Man of Tomorrow's super hearing was already recognising the linguistic relationship between the two Atlantean dialects. While comparing them to the similar language he had recently mastered, that of Mer-people of Tritonis.

Oliver Queen continued saying. "Glad you could join us Superman." He turned and gestured to Speedy Harper and the tall Aurian Warrior Women, who stood near by.

"These dames said you were dead. Me. I told them they shouldn't be so sure."

Queen was wearing a change of clothes. He looked like Robin Hood in Lincoln Green, Harper like the legendary Will Scarlett. Speedy wore the same style of clothes but a dark red costume with grey detailing, Together both versions created an effective camouflage to the human eye especially during the hours of darkness. Both men carried Aurian bows. Superman had seen these weapons in action and using his microscopic vision examined these weapons, as he simultaneously scanned the Aurians themselves.

"Our bows were lost in the Sea Tiger." Queen said correctly guessing Superman's next question. The Man of Steel remembered Oliver Queen's profile in the Daily Star's directory. A note included the millionaire industrialist and adventurer had a passion for archery.

In the hands of Aurian Women Warriors these bows were relatively compact, but for Harper and Queen they were big enough to be called long bows. Superman didn't recognise the wood used in the construction of these weapons. The material was very unusual, and he thought must hail from this place alone. It was different again from the trees used to construct the Aurian homes. He had not seen anything like it before.

"How did you persuade your hosts to arm you?"

"I asked." Queen replied. "Nicely." He added with a broad grin that suggested that the matter hadn't been so straight forward. "They've decided the enemy of our enemy is our friend." He continued. Ponting back to the lowlands below the Aurian settlement, and to Venturia. "Besides they seemingly admire our American grit. The local guys seemingly don't have our strength – or so I'm told." He said with wink.

"They laughed when Ollie asked to try to use one of their bows." Speedy told Superman. "I guess the idea entertained them, any way Terry Sloane was terrific, he talked to them round. Thing is I think they wanted to see us try and fail – but we showed em' didn't we Ollie."

"Yeah." Queen chuckled. "Apparently their men aren't strong enough to draw these bows properly."

Superman understood the size disparity between the Atlantean Ha-Mazon women and their menfolk had logical consequences. Aurian men weren't only smaller than their women, but generally shorter and slighter than the American's who had found themselves allied to the ladies of unusual size, but he already knew there was more to this than met the human eye.

"You know your way around a bow I take it?" Superman asked. Queen nodded, Superman looked at him. "And Star City's criminal underbelly." He added.

Queen frowned as his cheeky smile became a look of determination.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Green Arrow." Superman turned to the shorter man. "Red Arrow." Speedy shook the Man of Steel's hand.

"You've heard of us." Harper said a little awestruck.

"I make it my business to know who is on the side of the Angels." Superman replied. "And I'm glad after the Archer business that somebody is redeeming the Lincoln Green." He turned to Harper.

"So Speedy, Sloane speaks their language?"

"I do Superman." Terry Sloane walked up to where Superman and the Arrows stood.

The Man of Steel shook Sloane's hand. He knew of only one natural human who moved more silently than Terry, and he wore the mantle of the bat. He had heard Sloane's measured heartbeat and footfalls before he had spoken, but the manner in which Terry Sloane carried himself told Superman much. Sloane had also changed from his torn suit, he had borrowed some locally made clothes. The material and the weave interested the Man of Tomorrow. A green short coat was tied with a wide black belt, a scarlet one piece under that had an attached hood, which Sloane had left down.

"What do you want to tell me?" Superman asked.

"The Aurian's Queen Eeras wishes to meet you. No one has ever survived Clea's Trident apparently – until you."

"Not sure I did a great job. I still ache all over." Superman admitted.

"Surviving seems to be enough. As far as I can tell the Aurians think you've basically come back from the dead." Terry said. He then indicated that the Man of Tomorrow should follow him into the sprawling forest city.

"Captain Sherman is waiting for us inside." Terry told him.

They were accompanied by the Arrows, and behind the two American Archers, followed the Aurian Warrior Women guards. A long Avenue stretched ahead. Superman scanned the settlement with his powers, looking, listening and learning. In due course he located the American contingent in a compound some distance ahead, he considered a single bound, but he had questions, and he felt that discretion would be the course for now.

Superman noted who was missing from the Sea Tiger's crew. Men he presumed captured by the Venturians. He was surprised to see among the wounded, men he had thought to be dead.

He realised he had more questions to ask the Aurians.

"How did you come to learn their language?" Superman asked the renaissance man as they strode along.

Sloane shrugged. "Long story short, I was given some tablets to translate by Alsos, they were simple letters, of little interest in themselves, the contents were mundane trade discussions, not perhaps what Alsos hoped, but these documents had been written in two languages, one was Proto-Greek, the other an unknown. Until I landed here I'd never heard Atlantean spoken, but when I did I recognised it as the language I had previously translated. I can't say I'm any way near fluent, but I can make myself understood."

"Have you noticed the gravity of this world is less than Earth norm?" Superman asked.

"I have." Sloane agreed. "I estimate about point seven five Gee."

"I concur." Superman agreed. "It's one reason why our men are noticeably stronger than the local males, if not however the ladies."

"These two opposing tribes are a fascinating example of a matriarchal society." Terry Sloane stated.

"And not my first." Superman replied. Thinking of the Amazon's and Diana.

-'S'-

Wonder Woman stepped through the door of the cell, following after Aquaman. Each time the Sea King broke through, she saw within these fetid holds the Kraken's human cargo. Captured allied seamen, ready to be delivered to the Venturians as slaves. There was now no question that this was the fate of the Sea Tiger's captured crew.

Wonder Woman listened to the hubbub around about her, beyond the reptilian guards were trying to break through the pressure doors she had closed and locked shut. The information the Narga Captain had given up had been very useful, enabling Diana to seal the hold off from the main ship. Aquaman provided the brute force. She the deft hands of precision and care.

For each captured man wore the same strange bracelets. Her's were symbols of slavery. All Amazon's wore these to remind themselves how as a nation they had been enslaved, and that they should always value above all freedom.

These bindings were of the same alien pearlescent material as the Kraken. Superman had encountered them during his adventure in the Annunki city beneath the West Coast. Recalling his account filed with Justice Batillion, Diana knew she had to neutralise these venom injecting control devices, otherwise these poor men would never be truly free.

Superman had included a sketch of the devices in his report. His rendering was a precise photo realistic cutaway. Diana reflected that this three dimensional transparency was how the Man of Tomorrow could see the world. Now her own eidetic memory included these details, and informed her where to cut to sever the devices connection with outside control. Again Diana wielded the edged discus of Apollo become her tiara with a surgeons skill, two deft cuts, one to neutralise the wrist band, the second to slice the offending technology away. Each time the Annunki's perverse manacles left the skin raw, and centre a red welt where the bracelet had grown into the unfortunate prisoner.

Aquaman stood watch while she worked with as much speed as compassion permitted. Then on again to another section of the Kraken's hold.

The next corridor revealed individual cells.

Moments later Aquaman's fists revealed the shocked and dazed features of the Green Lantern, and almost immediately turning his powerful kick, opened another cell to reveal the similar surprised face of Star Man. Both wore their signature costumes, but lacked the devices which made them greater than mortal men.

"My Ring!" Gasped Alan Scott.

"My Rod!" Spat Ted Knight.

"All in good time Gentlemen." Diana told them. "Kneel." She commanded. "Hold out your wrists, and I can free you from your slave bands."

In obedience the two heroes gladly bowed before Wonder Woman. Glad for Diana relieve them of their bonds.

"They got you too." Ted said to Alan. "Was it Gas?" He asked, as at speed to fast for the human eye to register Wonder Woman cut him free.

"No." Alan laughed self consciously, as his slave bands fell to deck. "A Nazi wielding a wooden rifle butt – they are in cahoots with these Pirates, anyway he got me good, right on the back of my head." The Green Lantern stood up. "Thank you Diana." He turned to Star Man. Ted Knight looked somewhat confused.

Alan guessed why. He explained. "I have a problem with wood. It penetrates my energy shield. You'll forgive me if it's a weakness I don't like to advertise." Then he turned to Aquaman. "Whose your friend Diana. I guess we owe him too."

"I am called Aquaman by my enemies, but Arthur by my friends." Curry said holding out his hand.

"We can meet and greet later." Diana said, briskly she turned beckoning to the men to follow her. Wonder Woman pressed forward saying. "There is still much work for us to do if we're to secure the Kraken before it docks with Venturia."


	77. Chapter 77

1942 part 15

Wonder Woman in flight crashed through the Annunki Vessel, behind her was an army. Armed with weapons liberated from the Naga shape-shifting robed guards, these brave allied merchant seamen followed this beauty who flew above them, and below Aquaman, a vengeful force of nature in green and gold. Standing with these common sailors and their officers were two ordinary Americans. Deprived of their devices of power, the Green Lantern - Alan Scott, and Starman - Ted Knight, were still formidable, men of courage and fortitude. Freed to fight from extreme circumstance, they led the charge, a call for truth, for justice and democracy.

Leaving the confines of the lower decks, this was no time for thought of stealth, nor was it possible. The numbers and human limits of the freed merchant seaman dictated speed and tactics. They had left the cells of Kraken's hold, the dungeons of this strange fortress within a golden adamant carapace, wrecked and empty, Diana was certain the vessels masters must know that their captives were free. Tactically she and had to both lead and protect.

The Allies found themselves in wide and tall halls, decked with splendour. The evidence of millennia of robbery on the high seas adorned the walls of the Kraken. Portraits, statues, fine china, and so much more.

Aquaman was a force of nature battering his way through the locked chambers, Diana was fleet of foot, for she was as ever the daughter of god mother Artemis of the hunt, and the hunt was on. Aquaman had reason to seek the Nazi war criminal, and pirate Black Jacob Fange, and Diana his reptilian ally; known to the Amazons as Typhon. Scott and Knight could be trusted to help the freed men organise.

Upward through large and commodious rooms, there was scant evidence of crew or guardsmen. Tactically Diana guessed their enemy had retreated to a defensible position. Like any prison, or slave ship, the Kraken carried far fewer guards and crew than prisoners in her cells.

Wonder Woman leapt gracefully upwards, the men followed. Climbing the tall curving stairs up to what could become the open deck of the internal Fortress like structure, which was only revealed when the hull opened as a beetle would its carapace to unleash its folded wings.

The Fortress was like a simple castle, and like a ship of old, of wood and sail, here set high beneath the golden metal of the adamant hull was the bridge and control arrays for this vessel.

It was here the enemy chose to make it's stand.

The deck guns now turned to fire on the ascending allies. Diana with all of Hermes's speed was invisible to the human eye until she slammed bodily into the first heavy weapon, just as the mighty gun blasted a projectile. As she attacked the gunners aim was spoiled, and the explosive shell detonated against the insider of the adamant Hull. The noise was deafening, and hot flame and shell casing shrapnel showered down from above.

Diana added to the smoke and thunder the sound of screaming agonised sheering metal. Wonder Woman tears the heavy gun free from it's mounts, and taking hold of the barrel like the handle of a vast hammer she spins and hurls this turret at the second gun emplacement. Metal strikes metal and an explosion rips across the deck as the shell in the barrel explodes against itself and the hurtling turret she had thrown.

Stunned by noise, and the speed at which the Amazon Princess has moved, the defenders begin an assault of small arms fire, targeting the emerging sailors.

The rat-a-tat of automatic rifles is intermixed with the popping hiss of chemical bullets. Nazi Storm Troopers stand with Narga Warriors, stand together, with the humans wearing gas masks against their allies chemical weaponry. Marching forward they advance from the castellated bridge of the strange vessel. Together they target the chaotic rag tag army of freed seamen.

Diana takes to the air, soaring above these troops. From her lofty vantage point she sees the upper Fortress deck clearly, and sights her quarry. The Annunki Captain is revealed. His towering height and shark-like leathery crest sighted by the perceptive eye of Diana. This was the aquatic sub-species of the ancient reptilian race, but for lack of feathers it was the twin of the beings Superman had met in the Subterranean world under the West Coast, and those they had encountered as allies to the Red Monk and the Vampire undead in the Necropolis.

Beneath her the brave sailors pressed forward, their voice raised in a cheer. For they had a leader.

Diving through the hail of bullets and projectiles as if they were water came the Sea King, his hide so tough that small arms fire was like rain to him, his mouth closed against the poisonous fumes, his ability to hold his breath was prodigious. He led the assault allowing his human allies the comfort of distance, acting as a magnet, a target, for gunfire. A super human shield protecting the seaman and his new found colleagues from the Justice Battalion.

Diana sailed over all, flight taking her to where the tall reptilian stood.

She alighted on the upper deck in the midst of control surfaces of what could only be the Kraken's bridge. Around her stood the Kraken's crew of aquatic reptilians, she counts ten lizards plus their Captain. Before her a great eye burned in a golden sphere, a mirror onto the outside world. Through this window Diana could see the towering citadel of Venturia rising up into the night. Thousands of fiery lights glimmering across its many spreading floors that jutted from the spindly central stalk.

Their attack had not come a moment too soon, for the Kraken was close to making port, and with it the help of Venturia's Ha-Mazon forces.

She wondered as to whether the Annunki Captain had called for help, or had pride led him to remain silent?

An answer of sorts came. Lightning from the port, from the raised platforms of Venturia, now lit up the night sky incandescent fire works of crackling energy. The Kraken shook and rumbled, but the ancient hull shrugged off the assault. It would take more power, more magic to crack this mechanisms shell.

Hundredths of a second had past. The eyes of Typhon's Captain flickered in recognition.

Diana saw the tall Reptilian twitch. His crewman turned upon her, with the Amazon Princess in the centre of them.

Poison sprayed from the Annunki's mouths as the reptilian crew collectively spat venom in her direction. Her hands had already crossed at the first flare of the nostrils on their Captains green snout. The magic of Zeus's aegis shield extended around Diana, a protective bubble against the billowing cloud of vaporised venom. Then moments later, the creatures poison sacks were all but emptied. The creatures had gambled all in this attack, and now like a whirlwind, Diana brought to the Kraken's primary crew the oblivion of unconsciousness, her deadly dance of herculean blows and lightning fast kicks measured as not to break the reptilian skulls, until only one remained.

Then into the shadows the Amazon Huntress with one hand let loose her lariat, and with her other her tiara. Apollo's circular blade flew magically zipping across the line of soldiers below. Sparks marked its invisibly quick passing. Clipping many of the extended rifles, causing the volatile Narga weapons to explode. Their human allies recoiled from the lizards, afraid. Their gas masks offered little protection with the Narga's chemical guns exploding at such close quarters, raining acid venom concentrate onto clothes and exposed skin.

Those Nazi's who did not succumb to the poison, continued to run panicked. Their Captain is exposed in the chaos.

Aquaman dives forward again, punching through a sea of bodies. His target screams. The Sea King grabs the throat of the Pirate Black Jack. "So Fange I have you." The Swimmer says with relish. "And your call to the beasts of the deep will do you no good here in the belly of the Kraken."

The Nazi Officer gurgled obscenities, but he was going no where.

The Storm Troopers turned uncertain now, guns wavered in the direction of Aquaman. "Your bullets will only make more me all the more angry, and your Captain all the more dead. He told them. "Surrender." Aquaman bellowed.

His call rang out to the reptilians who too watched their captain in mindless shock, vacant and uncertain in their eyes and movements.

For Diana held in her lariat the true leader. A bird like Annunki lord, who had been skulking in the shadows. Hiding while all else fought.

"Typhon brood, where are the items of power you took from my friends." Diana demanded of the lizard leader.

The reptilian hissed, it's white teeth flashed as it snapped, but the fires of Hestia burned in the golden rope of Gaia's girdle, there was nothing the beast could do, as much as it struggled it was like quicksand, Diana knew the realisation would come, and that only the truth would be told.

-'S'-

High in the lofty apartments of the Royal Palace a cry rang out.

A man servant was hastily dispatched with a message from the quarters of the Annunki Diplomat the Lord Solahteedoh. With trepidation he approached the Royal Chambers.

Hesitating for a moment that to him seemed an age the man coughed. "Ahem."

In her bed asleep, the Ha-Mazon Queen growled as she woke. Then she roared into the darkness.

"What is it?"

The lights in the room flickered from nothingness to dim warmth at her command.

The Venturian Manling Slave head bowed in fearful resignation.

"Well? Speak quickly or lose your tongue Manling. What business is so important that it disturbs our sleep?" Clea raged.

"Majesty." The Slave stuttered. "Forgive the intrusion at this late hour...

"Spit it out Manling." Clea said rising from her sheets, her long legs falling from the bed. Her naked muscular frame dressed in shadows and faint light. Her face perfect in proportion but ugly from ill tempered rage, and in her dark eyes only contempt.

"...the Kraken Majesty..."

"What – you wake me to tell me that boat has finally limped to port?" Clea sighed. Her hands balled into fists.

"No no Majesty... Lord Solahteedoh asks your Majesty for help."

"Help?" Clea asked, her voice no longer raised but measured as if calm.

The Manling shivered in terror. This was never a good sign. He spoke his piece quickly. "The prisoners aboard the Kraken, they have escaped, they have mutinied, the Kraken's Captain has radioed Lord Solahteedoh... He is asking for your help."

"I see." Clea spat through gritted teeth, she stepped forward, and as the lights in room burst into full brightness the man servant felt her touch as his Queen sent him reeling across the room with a single punch, for him their was only darkness.

-'S'-

The survivors of the Sea Tiger had gathered inside a spacious hall together with their wounded. It was an Aurian Hospital, equipped with strange Atlantean devices, and staffed by male nurses and tall Aurian female doctors, in striking blue robes.

Superman observed a statuesque Aurian Doctor attend her American patients. She carried what he guessed to be a hand held monitoring device. Going from bed to bed she waved this over the wounded, all the while reading the machines colourful display. His x-ray like vision saw inside the box, but he could not see how the components were powered, or how they worked together. Magic, Superman thought to himself. Atlantis had created a peculiar marriage between technology and sorcery.

Superman and Terry Sloane now joined their fellows. They were escorted to this living building with the Green Arrow and Speedy by the squad of Aurian Warriors.

"Queen Eeras has retired, for the hour is late." They were told. "She will question you in the morning. Until then please make yourself comfortable Manling." The Aurian Guard Captain said to Superman. "And if you have any needs, please let our man servants know."

Superman was greeted by the American Sailors with awe and excitement.

"I never thought he was real." Whispered one.

"Yay Supes!" Another shouted, and others repeated the cry.

They were glad to see their legendary hero was back on his feet. The Man of Steel shook Captain Sherman's hand and listened to his assessment of his crews condition. "The Aurians are treating us pretty well. It's amazing what they have done. Really incredible." Superman could see Sherman meant this. He was not a man given to hyperbole. Yet he could tell something was amiss.

He wondered what was troubling Sherman. He could see Sloane was uneasy too.

The Man of Tomorrow had already checked over the extensive facility with his extraordinary senses. Still he asked the obvious question out of respect.

"Have there been any fatalities?"

The Captain frowned. "There should have been. Hell I thought we'd lost a lot of good men."

Superman nodded, he had thought so too.

"But Superman these women, well there's no easy way to explain this, they brought them back." Sherman gestured to the beds where the injured rested.

Superman came to the point. "And Bob Crane?" He asked, observing how the roboticist oddly dismembered body was laid on a meal table located in an ante room of the Aurian infirmary.

"That is another story." Sherman said.

Superman brought to mind the articles that Robert Crane and his Research Partner Charles Grayson had published on robotics and analytical engines – rudimentary computers. Clark Kent had read these in the obscure scientific papers among his many subscriptions. These were publications which rarely circulated outside of the ivy league campuses of America's most prestigious universities. Superman had perfect recall, and he regretted the loss of such a pioneer in his field.

"What is it Captain?" Superman asked the older man.

"I think I should explain." Terry Sloane interjected, he went on to say. "Thing is Superman the Aurians insist that Bob Crane is alive."

Having just seen the broken body of the man he'd principally known by reputation, Superman was stunned. "How can that be possible?" He asked Terry Sloane.

Sloane looked at the Man of Tomorrow with sombre eyes. "I have no idea." The young genius replied. "I'm at a loss as how he can be." Terry shook his head. "But the Aurian Chief Physician," He gestured to one of the tall Ha-Mazon woman in blue robes," assures me that Professor Crane isn't dead, at least not by their standards. Apparently the weapons here can kill you, but as far as Atlantean science is concerned you only remain mostly dead."

Sloane continued saying. "Our other wounded, those who were badly hurt aboard ship when she was driven aground, they are all recovering remarkably well." Terry gestured to the wider ward where men lay recovering. "From simple broke bones to more serious injuries. It's incredible really."

They walked to the ante room where the Roboticist lay. With him was his friend and colleague Charles Grayson.

The Man of Steel thought it impossible – how could Crane be alive? He was in pieces, literally.

His torso was severed in two just below the chest, his limbs fractured at the joints. He was more a jigsaw puzzle than a man. Worse was the strange material that Queen Industries had developed with Terry Sloane - the plastic like aluminium of the sub's hull had bonded to his flesh. Crane's body parts looked like they'd been in dipped in waxy metal.

Superman used those seconds to recall in detail what at happened. He had seen the lightning like energy pouring uncontrolled from the damaged Venturian weapon, as he flew to the Sea Tiger's aid. He had seen Crane driven by this white fire into the hull of the broken boat. An explosion had followed.

Superman's his x-ray like vision delved inside the shattered man, and what the Man of Tomorrow saw astounded him. Beneath the shiny metallic melted shell that covered Crane, were metals and HiTAP. The Sea Tigers unique hull and alloys from the internal mechanisms had merged with Bob Crane's flesh at a microscopic level. The deeper Superman looked the more complete the impossible union of man and machine seemed.

The Man of Tomorrow's medical knowledge was extensive, beginning with Doc Lang's Medical Library in Smallville, it continued to grow, but nothing in modern science could explain this union of man and machine.

Grayson at once greeted Superman. "What do you make of this?" He asked hopefully.

"Honestly it seems impossible, but I have seen many impossible things happen already today, from living dinosaurs to water magically controlled and used as a weapon."

The Aurian's Chief Physician joined them. Sloane introduced the Man of Steel.

Superman smiled. "Good evening." he said looking up at her perfect classical features.

She responded without a word, waving her scanning device over his torso, but the Aurian's large eyes opened wide as the display of her instrument went wild with lights and crackles. Quickly she pulled the meter back from the broad S shield on the Ace of Action's chest.

"So you are the Manling who survived Clea's Trident?" She gasped, speaking in the Aurian's distinct Atlantean dialect. Superman was already familiar with the language of Tritonis and had already assimilated the differences. He turned her attention from him, to the table where Crane's body lay.

"How is he doing Doctor?" Superman asked. His deep blue eyes questioning as he looked up at the taller woman.

"Their is no doubt he yet lives." The Aurian Surgeon said. To prove her point she inspected Cranes remains once more, passing her medical device over him. This time the display only flickered, almost the opposite response to the readings taken from Superman, but a response nonetheless. The doctor continued saying. "This life force meter confirms that this manling is alive – further the results have grown stronger since he was brought to me."

"How can that be?" Superman pressed stating the obvious. "He's in pieces."

"I can't answer that exactly." The Aurian Doctor said, Superman detected embarrassment as he observed her micro expressions. "I don't know why he wasn't consumed in the unrestrained release of energy – that is what I would have expected, but yet he was not. Clearly the Heart Stone has changed him – and I suspect still is changing him." She observed. Adding as an after thought.

"Raw magic uncontrolled is unpredictable."

"Heart Stone?" Superman asked feigning ignorance but remembering what his super hearing had heard the Venturian Queen shout to her warriors.

"The Source of Atlantis." She said with sniff. Then as if speaking to a child she explained. "The Heart Stone is the artefact that powers civilisation, all devices in all the lands in our world, all draw down their energy from the Heart Stone. The Heart Stone gives freely and to all without exception or condition."

Superman switched to English as he spoke to Sloane. "A common power source, yet both sides using it are at odds with one another!" He recalled Queen Clea's warning. Saying. "And yet the Venturians were afraid their broken Lightning Lance might drain this Heart Stone, so it's resources cannot be unlimited."

"It seems the politics of this lost Atlantean realms are more than complicated." Sloane observed. "If they rely on a single power source for all technology it must create some sort of stalemate between them. Neither side dare an all out attack the other for fear of what they might lose." The young genius concluded.

"What happens to this man now?" Superman switched to Aurian to speak to the tall physician, as she continued to monitor Bob Crane.

The Aurian Doctor shook her head and frowned. "I don't know – this set of events is as unusual to me as it is to you. I can see his life force reading is climbing – moment by moment the energy within him grows in strength. He is restoring himself."

Sloane repeated this assessment, translating for Grayson.

Superman stared at the body parts in front of him for a while in silence. His face stern. Then turning to the Roboticist the Man of Tomorrow said in English. "Professor Grayson, at the surfaces of Professor Crane's body, everywhere there is exposed damage, I can see that there is activity on a microscopic level."

"What kind of activity?" Charles Grayson asked.

"I can see structures forming – reforming,"

"He's regenerating?"Sloane asked.

"Yes and no." Superman replied. "This isn't strictly speaking growth, I mean what I can see isn't truly biological."

"If not biological – then what? It can't be mechanical, can it?" Grayson suggested, his surprise self evident.

"Yes something like that." Superman replied.

"Fascinating." Grayson responded. He gestured excitedly to the Aurian Doctor, forgetting the language and cultural barriers between them. "Can you be a dear thing and please bring me a microscope?"

It seemed to Superman that Grayson's grief over his friends condition was all of a sudden replaced by hope, and child like wonder.

The Man of Steel could not but help smile at his use of English. The towering woman looked to Sloane for translation.

Terry bowed and respectfully asked this powerful woman for a magnifying instrument. Mindful of the Matriarchal nature of this Ha-Mazon society.

Shortly she returned, and with ease placed the large device beside the metal table. It was more or less recognisable as a microscope, but still clearly Atlantean in design.

Sloane thanked her and she left them.

He and Grayson quickly deciphered how the various wheels controlled the direction and amplification of the lenses, and began their examination. Superman stood by observing. With the microscope the two men were now able to see the changes his super vision had identified.

Peering into the eye pieces, Grayson went first, then Sloane. Both were stunned and excited.

Grayson took over once more saying. "It's bizarre, but when I think about what I've seen this evening, it's also consistent." He gestured to the resting American casualties in this Aurian Infirmary, men who had been by any normal measure deceased. "Frankly I don't know how they achieve it, but these guys the Venturians gunned down – even those badly burned by their Lightning Lances, with treatment from the Aurians they're like Lazarus back from the dead.

"Given the growth I'm seeing - well _construction_ is perhaps a better word, it looks like Bob Crane might be coming back too." Grayson said with excitement.

He then let Terry use the scope once more.

"But how and in what form?" Sloane asked. His brow creased with heavy worry lines as he peered through the microscope. "What I'm seeing here isn't human."

Superman felt he had to agree. What he could see was however incredible. Then Chuck confirmed the Man of Tomorrow's suspicions.

"I don't know." Grayson said running his hand through his hair. "But it looks like our work. Those are robotic electrical joints and connections, but they're forming on a microscopic scale, tiny replica's of the circuits Bob and I built to automate the Sea Tiger's systems."

Grayson leant forward and looked at the body of his friend once more. Superman watched as the Professor moved the severed right forearm of Crane towards the base of the corresponding upper arm. Bringing both under the microscopes field of sight. Taking over from Sloane, Superman observed Grayson using tiny forceps drawn from a tool kit he carried on his person. The robotocist used these to adjust the position of the newly constructed bio-metal extrusions under magnification. Then Grayson let Sloane return to the eye pieces.

Superman watched with baited breath.

Moments later Sloane stood up straight. "Chuck the connections are bonding!"

"I know." Grayson said wide eyed. "I know – it's amazing."

Superman could only agree. He was watching the dismembered body parts with Grayson's assistance, reconnect.

"We're seeing bio-mechanical technological-life evolving before our eyes." The robotocist exclaimed.

"But what is he, what has Bob Crane become?" Sloane asked. "Robot or Man?"

Superman had already come to a conclusion. He looked at both men and said. "Gentlemen from what I can see – he's both."


	78. Chapter 78

1942 part 16

Diana held the Annunki in her golden lariat. Compelled to be truthful he directed her, and she in turn relayed these instructions to the Green Lantern and Starman. Together they were able seize control of the ancient vessel, mastering the controls, and turn the Kraken.

Above from the cloudy heights of the towering citadel, Capital of Venturia an aerial armada of Pterosaurs, and riding them Ha-Mazon Knights fell into the chilly night air.

Ted Knight turned the wheel, and with a groan and a roar like a beast in anger, the flattened sphere of adamant turned too. Riding over the the waves, the Kraken crashed rearward into the Venturian Citadel's harbour.

The Kraken's window on the world answered to Diana's hand. The visual display flickered and focused as her graceful fingers danced over the command console. Wonder Woman's hunter's eye spied the face of Clea atop her winged beast high in the star filled sky. She span the dial and zoomed in, the image telescoped until the hatred in the Ha-Mazon's face was easily seen, illuminated in the fiery glow, the light of the old magic burning from the tips of Posideon's Trident, the weapon that Clea held aloft.

Diana had expected this.

Beneath them water began froth and boil, as the Venturian Queen Clea bent the terrible ancient weapon to her will, yet even as she summoned the sea to do her bidding, Wonder Woman was not caught twice with the same trick. She turned to Alan Scott, saying to the Green Lantern. "Release the Kraken."

Snapping forward from the rounded hull section came the purple tendrils like great tentacles, purple pink, their unnatural light bright in the night. Like whips these unnatural arms lashed out snapping around the citadel of Venturia. Grabbing the tower. Then the Kraken pulled itself forward, dragging itself from out of the tumultuous sea. Its tentacle arms at once pressing the vessel to the base of the spindle like archology.

"Let's see Clea bring the ocean against the Kraken. When the Kraken is holding onto her own city." Diana said with satisfaction.

Ted Knight stood beside Alan Scott. Starman adjusted the controls, and octopus like the incredible ancient boat began to climb the Venturian Citadel, even as the waves Clea's magic had raged lapped around the harbour of her own capital, the golden vessel escaped them.

-'S'-

Captain Sherman could tell the roboticist Grayson was troubled. Anxiety the Navy Officer shared.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Chuck asked the machine man on the metal table.

"For sure." Came the reply.

The submariner reflected he was out of his depth, and a deep frown crossed his tanned face.

"Perhaps you fella's should wait until Superman comes back?" Sherman suggested but this Robot Man, ostensibly Bob Crane in voice and attitude, began to ease himself up from the metal table into a seated position. "Nah Captain, I'm ready to go." Crane said to him. He waggled a shiny metal arm in his general direction.

Alongside Chuck Grayson was the young genius Terry Sloane. Sherman acknowledged that there was no shortage of brains on the case. Still this was more like magic than science. That was very much the norm here in Lost Atlantis.

Robot-Man looked at his colleagues. His metal face broke into a broad smile. "You better have bolted me together right." Crane joked.

"You're telling me this is Robert Crane?" Sherman asked.

"I am." Robot man answered. "It appears my intelligence has become encased in the super hard plastic aluminium material of the Sea Tiger. I am made of Hi-TAP."

"Incredible." Sherman said shaking his head. "I recognise your voice Bob, but..."

"Thanks." Crane answered as he stepped down from the metal table where Grayson had assembled his disparate parts. His movements were slow and methodical.

"I can promise you I am Robert Crane. I have my memories. Do you recall that time my girl Joan came around when we were working on the Sea Tigers Systems back in the States?"

"The time she kissed your or the time she slapped you for standing her up."

"Yeah, we were going to the theatre that night – but you were coming around to view the plans."

Robot Man shook his head and took an uncertain step forward.

"Steady there." Grayson said to his friend.

Robot Man laughed. Tapping his chest. "This stuff resisted the abyssal depths of the seas. It took the unnatural powers of extreme magical forces to dent it. I think I'll be okay."

"I don't understand what is going on." Sherman admitted. "Can one of you at least try and explain this to me?"

Sloane answered him. "I think the magic that's endemic here somehow bonded - merged Bob Crane not only to the crush resistant skin of the Sea Tiger, but to the metal and electronics inside the boat."

"How can that be possible?"

Sloane shrugged. "It's beyond me, but it's clear the Venturian's magic lance doesn't kill people as we understand the idea of dying."

"True." Sherman admitted. "I've watched the Aurian Doctors bring my men back to life.

Now both man and machine Crane took another hesitant step.

Grayson shook his head in wonder, saying to his friend. "You realise working out exactly what makes you tick is going to take some time."

"A life time even." Terry Sloane noted. "And Bob, y'know, I still think you're high from natural endorphins."

Crane giggled. "You're probably right." Robot Man tilted his head in a very human way. His face moved expressively. "Because Terry you are the one with a medical degree." He slapped Grayson on the back. "Chuck and I are humble engineers – right Chuck?"

"Dammit Bob." Grayson exclaimed. "We're just worried about you. We don't really understand any of this."

"Hell Chuck – think about it. You and I – we've got that chance, that life time Terry is talking about, to work this out, and I, well I've got a second chance at living. Don't look so glum."

Sherman watched Grayson try to smile. He had to. Sloane had told the Captain the truth. He couldn't even begin to guess how long Bob's strange second life might last. Sherman suspected the two scientists feared Crane might keel over at any moment. Fall dead for good this time.

"Perhaps Chuck has a point Bob?" Sloane stated as Crane took uncertain strides across the room. "We need to run more tests."

"I appreciate that." Crane said as he turned around – ever step seemed to accomplished with increasing confidence. "However I'm not going to establish what has happened to me, what limits this body has without experiment - and that's what my ever step is Terry, a test."

-'S'-

The bed chambers of Aurian Queen Eeras were located high in the branches of a splendid Aurian Oak, a living construct both home and tree. Blonde and beautiful the giantess lay sleeping on her appropriately sized mattress. In her dreams she felt the warm sun on her cheeks, the coolest breeze, icy with bite of the high snow capped mountains. Her pulse quickened, and she found herself awake. Sure enough a stiff wind whipped the drapes that hung from her four post bed, and turning to the open window she saw a manling standing in the night air. His dark cloak was black in the twilight, his face silver in the light of the moon. She caught her breath in the black and white grey scale his athleticism was made all the more apparent by the stark contrast of shadow.

"Su'per-man..." She said. He alien language did not spill easily from her lips. She had intended to keep this manling waiting until the morning, but now he had come to her – to her chamber! The Queen of all Auria blushed, for the flying manling spoke to her in perfect Atlantean, a deep voice that resonated around her with a power and confidence she had never experienced from the other sex - the weaker sex. Yet this was the manling who had resisted the magic of Clea's stolen Trident. She smiled a knowing smile, and in the darkness her soul wells sparkled. The eyes of a primal woman stared at the embodiment of the Man of Tomorrow.

"We must speak your Majesty." Superman said to her a second time.

"Yes." she said, covering herself, in a half hearted way, sliding from her bed. "What is so important Manling that you must disturb my sleep? Could you not wait until the morrow? Is this what passes for manners in your A-mer-i-ca?

He shook his head. "No, however in the present circumstances my visit is necessary. I have received a message from my ally the Princess Diana of the Amazon's by means of her peoples Mental Radio."

Clea noted that he expected her to understand. Very well Eeras thought, I shall not disappoint you. "The little one." She noted with a dismissive toss of her flaxen locks. "I remember my spies told me how she fled with the gold and green manling into the seas – what can one small woman do?"

Superman smiled. "She may yet surprise you."

-'S'-

Robot Man stopped still like a statue of burnished chrome, before holding up a mercury metallic hand.

Then a moment later the relative silence of the Aurian hospital was dramatically interrupted by a loud wail piercing the night air, and reverberating around the living tree houses of the giants.

"My word what is that." Chuck Grayson exclaimed. The noise seemed to come from everywhere. Chuck thought, whatever it is Bob noticed it first. He made a notation in his journal – 'senses enhanced?'

"It's not me. At least I think it's not me." Robot Man said. Tapping his torso.

Grayson shook his head. Crane was still the joker. Even now – even now he was no longer human but a man-machine.

"It sounds like an alarm." Terry Sloane had to shout over the klaxon ring.

"True." Robot Man agreed. "I can hear the Aurian Doctors shouting."

"What are they yelling about?" Captain Matt Sherman asked Sloane.

"I can't make it out – too much noise." Terry admitted, they walked into the outer ward. Bob stepped heavily after them.

Robot Man repeated what he could hear, with added amplification.

Terry listened and a look of shock came over his face. "I don't know for sure, but it's something or someone - is apparently attacking the Venturian Citadel." Sloane translated.

Grayson did not need it spelled out to him. The Stoic Captain Sherman clearly felt the loss of his boat keenly. So it was with relish that he said. "This is something I have got to see."

Running from the medical building out into the street the Americans joined the tall Aurian women in the leafy capital's open spaces. Even above these tallest of trees, the distant spindle thin tower of the Venturian Capital could be seen brushing against the nights dark clouds.

"Hey wait for me." Crane was shouting after them, Grayson glanced back as awkwardly the Robot Man picked up his feet and began a heavy ungainly run, that moments later became fluid. The man-machine was learning, adjusting, accommodating his new self rapidly. Robot Man swept past them all running toward the centre of the Plaza at a speed Chuck could only guess at.

"He's like a speeding automobile." Sherman exclaimed as the metal man sped past them. Even the Aurian women parted in surprise to let the machine man pass.

Grayson looked up. Chuck had expected to see evidence of Superman was at work, attacking the Venturians, but instead he saw their enemy, the Kraken. The vast golden boat's bright purple ghostly tentacles were wrapped around the lower section of tower, illuminating the gilded vessel in pinkish light as it moved. "Hells Bells. It's climbing." Chuck spat.

"It doesn't make sense – why would the Typhon, the aquatic Annunki be making war on the Ha-Mazons - they're allies – aren't they?" Lieutenant Holden asked.

"This could this be Superman's doing." Terry Sloane suggested.

Sherman nodded. "He said something to me earlier, just before he left, something about finding Wonder Woman and Aquaman. This could be them - making their move."

Sherman and Holden, Sloane and Grayson, quickly joined Robot Man at heart of the central plaza.

There the Captain saw the unmistakable procession of royalty emerge from the Palace. At it's head was a striking blonde giantess whom he guessed must be the Queen Eeras. The Queen and her retainers entered the open public square.

"Now what's going on?" Lieutenant Holden asked.

"I have no idea." Sherman said grabbing hold of Terry Sloane. "Now look here Terry - what are these women shouting about."

Sloane frowned and held up his hand as he listened to the crowd of Aurian Warriors. Eventually he said. "They mean to strike at Clea. To take advantage of the Kraken's attack the Citadel."

Sherman looked grave and at once insisted. "What about our people? The Venturians captured a dozen of my men including Darnel and Trevor, what will happen to them now?"

Holden frowned. "Yeah, the Aurians might be better than the Venturians, but even these gals don't seem to hold their men in high regard – remember those poor guys – they were sacrificed to save us?"

"I do." Sherman admitted. "And I'm not sure why the Aurians did that."

Sloane shrugged. About the captured men - all we can do is ask..."

"Throw ourselves at the mercy of their Queen?" Sherman snapped. He sighed holding his hand up in apology, he turned to the dark haired Lieutenant. "Holden this is really more your thing. I mean you were so good at this kind of thing last time."

"Sir. I really don't think I'm up to the job."

"Oh I see Mr Holden, these Aurian women are all just too much woman for you?"

"I really think, with respect, that this is a job for Superman." Holden said pointing to where Queen Eeras stood, for there dropping from the stars to alight beside the giant women's leader appeared the distinctive red cape of the Metropolis Marvel.

-'S'-

Shiera Hall felt none of sharpness of the cold night air upon her bare skin, rather she revelled in the kiss of moonlight bright and silver as it washed across the white metal finery of her wing's Nth Metal feathers. Energy from this most precious of elements coursed through every fibre of her being, bringing with it strength, endurance and durability. Fast and fleet of wing, she and her husband, together as Hawkgirl, and Hawkman swept high above Gotham's dark and brooding spires, a collective of Gothic revival and Victorian excess.

The might engine of America's Industrial revolution had burned coal and men here first, long before the golden new Metropolis had been founded, before new technology's had left the days of coal and steam behind. Gotham no longer the Prince of Cities, her smoke blackened towers had grown dark and brooding, above dark and shadowy narrow streets of a by gone era. Faded old world glamour aged into decadence.

Falling from the sky the Hawks were black silhouettes against the stars, coming to rest on flat expanse of roof that capped the squat broad square of Gotham Electric's river side power plant. At each corner purple chimneys rose belching out the acrid smoke from the great fires in her belly.

Shiera listened to the hum of the turbines watching as Carter opened the door from the roof and into the plant below. "After you darling." He said, following as she descended into cavernous generation room, steps delivered them to the uppermost of four walk ways wrapping around the inside of the wall at each floor level. Shiera grasped the rail and gracefully leapt into the void. Electric lamps hung low from the high ceiling on long chains. Their naked brightness cut through the gloom.

Alighting on the floor together the Hawks folded their wings, and faced the assembled group. With the Dark Knight stood the woman called Mercy, and the youth called Robin, before him was a green metal box that sat on four box section legs. From this ran heavy cables to and from the device, connecting through it the Atlantean Portal to the Power Plant.

Shiera greeted Julie, and the boy Dick Grayson. He looked up at her with a smile full of youthful enthusiasm. As they talked two figures entered the sealed generator room. The first was the G-man Gio Zatara. Shiera's Nth metal enlivened eyes recognised the other shadowy man as John Sargent, better known by his stage name of Sargon the Sorcerer. Arguably he had stepped into the void in the world of entertainment Zatara created by joining the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Sargon wore a dark suit, which would have been entirely appropriate day wear, but for the swami styled turban atop his head, with the reflective red jewel mounted at its centre, and the Superman like red cloak. It was she thought very theatrical, more so than the top hat and tails Gio had sported on the stage.

Bruce turned a dial on the control table before him.

"Hello Jay." He said as fingers span the wheel, and the Flash appeared.

Garrick frowned, clearly he had not expected the Bat-Man to anticipate his timely arrival. Shiera reflected that his penchant for arriving at the last possible moment had become predictable.

Then even the fastest man alive was upstaged. The Flash switched places appearing beside her and Carter.

Shiera saw why. The Spectre had chosen to join them. The avenging angel had chosen to appear in the same spot Jay had just vacated.

"James." Bruce noted without looking up. "So glad you could join us."

"It is appropriate that I should observe this event." The Spectre said. James Corrigan's rich baritone echoed around the room despite the loud background rumble from the generators.

Corrigan, former police man, hero - a man dead and buried nodded. The cool chill of his presence – his voice, was like an open refrigerator door. The cold of altitude did not chill Hawk Girls blood, thanks to the energy of the Nth Metal wings, but stood here before the avenging angel gave Shiera goose bumps.

This left her wondering whether to be pleased or fearful that a being of such power judged it necessary to come to tonight. It also amused her that the Spectre had essentially played the fastest man alive at his own game. The sudden and timely arrival.

Even as she laughed to herself a nagging sense of doubt troubled her. Looking at the Atlantean Portal she said to Carter Hall. "Darling I find myself wondering about the wisdom of this."

Hawk Man nodded. "Me too - remember Pandora's box?"

The Bat-Man's attention was fixed to the bank of dials in front of him. All the while the whine from the generators had gradually become more urgent, and in turn the stone portal had begun to glow, now all the more brightly, energy crackled around the orifice. It's interior became dark, within the void grey shadows twitched and dived insubstantially.

"Now it's your turn gentlemen." The Bat-Man said with grave intent. "Science has done all it can. I must defer to the craft." He looked at Gio Zatara and John Sargent. The two magicians stepped forward.

"What's going on exactly?" Jay Garrick asked.

"Bruce was able to power the device but not tune it in." Mercy replied.

"So it's like a radio receiving static?" The Flash concluded.

Shiera smiled it wasn't a bad analogy.

The Spectre added to Julie's explanation. "It is because the ancient seal has been broken that it was possible for the Ultra Humanite to tune a Portal to the Plane of Existence that Venturia occupies. To seize control of that open gateway, requires both Sorcery and a Power Stone. These coupled with the great natural power of electricity to redirect the open path to Lost Atlantis from Los Angeles to Gotham."

Shiera shivered and was at once filled with foreboding. She fixed her attention at the two magicians.

Gio Zatara concentrated his attention on Sargon. "eb dercetorp – _be protected." _He invoked his magic. " eb dredwopme - _be empowered_." Channelling his power to his friend.

Sargon began to glow with the gathering magic. An aura of energy enveloping him as he stepped forward. A moment of quiet concentration as the light around him grew brighter still, then Sargon touched the ruby like stone in his turban, the Blood Stone of Power reacted by becoming bright like fiery torch casting its light front and forward, then John Sargent completes the circuit by touching the crackling Atlantean Portal. Energy surges from the Ruby of Life into the open doorway, and from the chaos within to Sargon. The room is alive with white blue light sparking against the protective aura cast around him by Zatara.

Shiera sees shifting lands of green, a wide sea, a towering citadel, then a dark temple interior – images flashing in the frothing turbulent portal. Strangely she sees faces she recognises.

Gio Zatara calls out to the waiting heroes. "Now or never my friends!"

The Flash is gone. Then Carter Hall leaps through the billowing mist of purple and black, Shiera steps forward with Mercy, certain that Batman will follow last of all.

-'S'-

Oliver Queen and Speedy Harper had joined their fellow Americans in the Aurian Plaza. Here Terry Sloane translated Queen Eeras address to Captain Sherman and the others. She spoke to her Warriors. Hastily they had gathered together in the open square. Beyond high in the night sky Ollie watched as the Kraken scaled the distant tower. He could see occasional glimmers, specks of movement he knew must be Ha-Mazon Knights, as from them bright lightning snaked towards the boat. Occasionally the golden craft seemed to shudder and shake, it's progress delayed as its purple-pink tentacles struggled against the Venturian's jagged white fire, only to climb once more.

The Americans stood together a short distance from the statuesque blonde Monarch.

Eeras said. "Remember Aurians the Trident of Posideon is the prize we seek. Take it from Clea, above all take the Trident.

"Hold fast to your bows. The Trees of Auria will protect you from Clea's purloined magic."

Oliver found his hand gripped the incredible Atlantean bow all the tighter. He recalled how the men of Auria had fallen on Venturian ground. Their blood had boiled in their veins. They had not come back from the dead.

Sloane translated. "As long as the _heart wood_ of Auria remains in your hand, and your ass stays in the saddle. You will be safe."

Speedy chuckled as Terry repeated that line, the young man said to Oliver. "I don't see any horses?"

Sloane continued reciting. "Touch Venturian soil and even the sacred tree of Auria will not protect you."

The Queen now pointed to Superman. "This manling who can fly, who along with his mighty allies can resist the Trident of Clea has agreed to help us – and in turn I have agreed to help him and his manlings recover the friends who Clea has added to her ranks of slaves.

"To our mounts Knights of Auria, bring your Bows of Burning Gold. Bring your Fire to the Queen Bitch of Venturia!"

There was a shout of acclamation from the assembled Warriors.

Superman returned to them. He floated over the heads of the giant women, who watched his progress with evident curiosity and wonder.

"So the Aurians are going to help the _manlings_ of America." Sherman said to the Man of Steel with a wry smile.

"Captain. Unfortunately circumstances have changed rather suddenly." Superman said gesturing back to the distant citadel and the Kraken. He landed beside his countrymen. "There is little time to talk, we've got to move. That is if we're to save our people and get you all home."

"I hear you " Sherman said. "Okay Superman what do want us to do?"

-'S'-

The Atlantean Temple to the god of war, the father of the Ha-Mazon horde was darker still than the night sky without, and within was all but deserted. A handful of Ha-Mazon's stood guard over the open portal. Agitated, their attention was directed at the ongoing assault. Outside above and below, cries rang out, for the Kraken was climbing the vertical but twisted structure of the Citadel. As the Adamant body scraped across the stone sections of the impossible city it crumbled. Desperate the Ha-Mazon Knights were in the air, their Lightning Lance crackling bright against the night sky. They could slow and frustrate the monster vessels progress but not halt it.

Then within the shadowy Temple of Ares the inter-dimensional portal began to spark. The great frame of the iron gate crackled, as from the black turbulent heart, purple flashes and white sparks indicated the impending arrival.

Guards stood at watch. Two panicked Ha-Mazon Warriors turned their lances toward the spiralling kaleidoscopic colours, as from the purple white depths emerged twin arcing golden flames burning a path in the shape of the mystic ankh.

Doctor Fate swept forward leading the charge. The Ha-Mazons were thrust aside from the portal. From the Los Angeles underground across time and space came the heroes assembled by Fate and circumstance.

Kent Nelson empowered by the sage Nabu hung above the gateway brilliant in blue and gold, like an incandescent light, Fate illuminated the Temple of Ares.

White lightening arched towards the emerging figures. It danced across the pearl white armour worn by Pat Dugan. The big man strode forward. His already broad frame made all the larger as the enveloping body armour he had taken from the Ultra Humanite's vault. His head was contained in a round flattened turret like helm, reminiscent of the Automatons, sitting on the square broadness the metal shoulders, with a rectangular slit hiding his eyes. His fore arms were enlarged almost two fold by the encasing plate, as were his calves. Around his chest was a broad _cuirass_, that pulsed with red stripes of power. Dugan raised his right arm. From the magnified portion above his wrist an orifice like a cannon barrel emerged, hot as the coals of a fire, and from this furnace a burning red shell burst forth, smashing into the wall behind the retreating Lightning Lance wielding Ha-Mazon Warriors, sending the tall woman sprawling amidst the dusty rubble.

Powering forward at Dugan's right, leaping above the tall man in armour came Sly Pemberton. White Stars illuminating his blue costume, around his waist a belt also taken from the plundered treasures of Ultra. Like a Prize Fighters girdle, with a roundel at the centre, the broad belt magnified the lithe youth's already prodigious athleticism, he fell upon the second guard, his flying kick felling the much larger woman like a great tree. She tumbled away from his greatly magnified strength.

From the portal Johnny Quick accelerated faster than the human eye could ascertain. Doctor Fate watched the red and gold speedster took to the air, launched into the void by his shear velocity. Followed at his heels by Mr America. Doctor Fate had watched Tex Thompson find the red cape he now wore amongst Ultra's collected treasures. A weave of apparent Native American origin, bordered on the bottom edge by a blue band of white stars. Nabu's all seeing helm determined how this simple cloth was more than it seemed. The angry red colour the product of a Power Stone reduced in ages past to a fine dust that had in turn in the hands of native Shaman dyed the cloth red. Now this magic infused cape allowed the crack shot and trained commando to defy gravity with superhuman ease.

From the portal came the others. The Mighty Atom charged forward, at his left the desperate father who had become radium bright Cyclotron. Watching Terry Curtis was ever vigilant White Stetson wearing Vigilante, and also the hooded and masked Sandman. Along side the Dark cape and cowl of Doctor Mid-Nite. These men stepped from the glowing purple aura into the line of fire of the Venturian weapons. Stars deftly took down another warrior, while Stripes stood in front of the portal taking the full force of the white Lightning Lances fire, acting as a shield so his colleagues could exit the gateway.

The Vigilante's guns barked yellow flashes. The Sand Man's gas gun's vapours mixed with the blackness of Doctor Mid-Nite black out grenades robbing the remaining Venturian guards of their sight and consciousness.

It was then Fate felt the change. He sensed the magical energy of Lost Atlantis surge, the Heart Stone, whose energies throbbed invisibly along lines of power through out the Lost Lands of Venturia and Auria, now beat all the more furiously. Fate knew something had radically altered the balance between Earth and the Lost Atlantis. Some one – some where had done the impossible; opening another doorway to Venturia. The Magic Master eyes flashed white and bright from within his helm as the sympathetic flow of mystical power burst open like a breaking damn. The Portal crackled becoming brighter like a purple Lantern in the heart of the darkest night within the Temple of the god of War.

So it was from the belly of lighting clothed in indigo mists ran the Crimson Avenger and Wing through the gate. From the out of the smoky haze they ran through the Portal with their guns blazing in answer to the reaming Ha-Mazon guard's Lightning Lances bursts of light. Bullets flew in the direction of the tall enemy even before the Crimson and Gold Avengers had stepped from chasm between realms. Purple sparks crackling around the metal of their guns. Dancing over the red and gold of their costumes.

Following them through the indigo mist came the suave Bart Regan and Sally Norris, with Delores De Winters and Lois Lane. Behind them Slam Bradley his broad shoulders emerged from the shadowy interior wearing a purple cape over his otherwise bare back and chest.

Doctor Fate convulsed as the Heart Stone pulsed. The great magical power source of Lost Atlantis answered, mirroring the rising power from the other side, from their home, from the earth, from engines of industry, from a power stone empowered Sorcerer, from another consummate Magician. Fate's stance changed from upright – arms outstretched to arms and legs bent, back hunched, like a man carrying the burden of the world. His eyes burned white all the brighter.

"Run!" Fate cried out his resonant voice echoing desperate through the temple like thunder. "Run my friends run – you must exit the portal now!

-'S'-

Superman closed in on the Citadel with Super speed. The words of the Aurian Queen rang in his ears. "Forward for Auria and Victory. Seize the night!"

From the backdrop of the starry sky the Man of Tomorrow watched as purple lightning now burst out of the Venturian Capitals sacred centre. From the Temple of Ares crackling indigo bolts whipped around the tall structure of the archology, illuminating the impossible tower all the more. The bolts sparked against the purple-pink tentacles of the Kraken, the vast vessel had hauled itself to the mid point of the tower. Leaving in it's wake a trail of destruction. The Kraken perched on the swollen level that included the Temple and it's jutting courtyard, a balcony defying gravity hanging from the Citadel.

Here Superman's incredible vision powers were fixed. He could see that this Temple complex was both the destination of the Kraken and the focal point of the strange purple lightning. Peering through the stone of the Tower with his x-ray like vision he looked into the Temple complex within, the Man of Steel paused briefly above the scene. He saw the familiar golden cape of Doctor Fate within. He saw his anguish. Something was wrong. This was unexpected. Diana's plan hadn't accounted for this.

Superman recognised the assembled heroes in front of the open Portal with a mix of wonder and appreciation for the courage. Then came anger. He saw the few that remained trapped within the indigo light of the trans-dimensional rift – still within the gateway between worlds as power surged through the body of the Gate it self.

Superman acted. The frame supporting the open gate crackled and arced like a Tesla coil, in turn from here the purple lightning crackled out around the towering Citadel.

Johnny Quick was like Superman fast enough to recognise the crisis and act. Looping back from the Temple court, where he had stood observing the approaching Aurian aerial strike force, the red and gold speedster now span on his heels and ran back to the inter-dimensional Gate.

In these fleeting hundredths of one second Superman spat through gritted teeth"Lois _and_ Dee Dee – double trouble." As the Man of Steel punched his way into the Temple of Ares like forged supersonic chisel.

The boom of his arrival was met by the counter explosion from the Gate itself.

The Crimson and Gold Avengers were thrown clear, propelled as if by some electrical explosion, the Might Atom leapt up and caught them in his muscular grip, just as the Vigilante's mystical bullet found it's mark and felled the last of the stray Ha-Mazon Warriors.

Johnny Quick leapt through the air past the Atom, to catch hold of Bart Regan and Sally Norris as they fell too - tumbling from the magical door. Quick's accelerated escape trajectory took him up the vertical walls of the temple and back away outside to the open court yard once more. In this same moment Superman swept past the transfixed and frozen form of Doctor Fate.

Whatever battle the Master of Magic fought – he did so alone, the Man of Tomorrow hadn't the time to wonder, for he had his own mission. The Man of Steel threw himself into reverse so that he matched the velocity of Lois and Dee Dee as the two women were propelled in the next split second from the open portal by the bursting purple flame. His arms wrapped around them protectively.

Magic energy pushed them all backwards. The assembled Heroes fell to one side, the fallen and captured Ha-Mazons with them. Superman had somersaulted, so his enveloping cape might wrap around him, Lois and Dee Dee, offering highly resilient alien fabric's protection from the indigo fire. He feared even this would not be enough. This fire was magical.

Stripes struggled to stand in the turbulent blast of purple mist. Stars was propelled out of the Temple door.

Last out of the Portal came Slam Bradley. The big man shot past the Man of Tomorrow like a bullet from a gun, trapped in the purple mist of the overloaded gate Superman had no free hand, he could not reach the gruff private eye. He felt trapped by the magic mist. The big man shot past them all through the wide open hall of Ares's Temple and out of the open doors. Hurtling across the courtyard and out into the no longer dark night sky.

-'S'-

Closing in on the Towering Capital of Venturia came the Aurian Knights Oliver Queen felt the chill of the night air bite deep, he was glad of the Aurian cloak wrapped around his Lincoln green outfit. That and the warmth from the giantess he clung too, his arms encircling her waist as a child might its mother. Years ago the young Ollie had ridden with his mom on her horse in this manner. Now he rode on another warm bloodied mammal, but here the resemblance ended. The great flying fox-bat was in every way the Aurian forests answer to the giant reptiles of the Venturian coast. Skin covered wings dove through the air, as the bright eyed giants carried the tall Knights of Auria towards the Citadel of the their enemy.

These vast animals had appeared from the distant trees, answering the Aurians cry. Speedy hadn't seen any horses, because these Warrior Women called upon very different beasts.

Leading the Aurian Knights was the mysterious but undeniably beautiful Queen Eeras, roused from her bed by the Kraken's attack, the Aurian Monarch had not hesitated to seize this opportunity to strike at Clea.

Queen reflected that she was a fiery character, and a whole lot of woman. They all were.

Oliver Queen and Speedy Harper had been permitted to fly with the Queen and her Cavalry. Having already shown their talent with bow, their skill had won them this privilege. Sherman was leading the other American's to the Citadel's lower levels. The manlings both Aurian and American had been given another remarkable animal as their mount.

Oliver felt the giant flying fox-bat turn. Eager the fox faced creature dived. Down they swooped, to where the vast Kraken lay, its golden body perched on the outer courtyard of the central Temple, purple-pink tentacles wrapped around the Tower, holding it there. The Venturian Pterosaurs Knights were circling firing on the strange mechanical _cephalopod's energy tentacles attempting to disrupt them, to break the Kraken's grip._

_Oliver gripped the saddle with his knees and let fly one of the Aurian's incendiary arrows. Even at this great distance his aim was flawless. The exploding flare blasting two Pterosaurs Knights from their saddle._

_His female companion grunted in surprise, unintelligible words of what the Green Arrow assumed were praise followed, as she brought her great bat around. Oilver readied another arrow, and caught sight of the Venturian's Queen as they climbed once more. High above she had extended her magical weapon, it's three prongs glowed powerfully, and yet she hung back from the fight._

_Ollie guessed that the enemy was too close to her own city, and the magic she held too destructive to let loose so close to home. Still he gripped the heart wood of the Aurian bow all the more tightly. He pointed to Clea, and the Aurian Knight with him laughed at her apparent predicament._

_The Aurians had no such reservations, and they followed the Green Arrow's opening shot by letting fly their own arrows. The bolts arched in the air, and as they took flight, they burst alight with bright red orange flames, falling to where the Pterosaurs swooped and dived, exploding where the Lightening Lances spat white fire, concussive blasts sent the beasts and riders tumbling. The battle began in earnest._

_-'S'-_

_Diana felt the explosive barrage coming from the Aurian Fox-Bat Calvary rock the air around the Citadel, shaking the towering structure and shaking the Kraken with it._

_It was confirmation that Kal had received her message._

_"The tentacles are holding." Ted Knight called out. "Not sure for how long." He tapped the dial to his left. "Looks like the.. err ____engine__ is about to blow."_

_"It doesn't matter now – we're here." Diana said._

_"Are you sure the way home is on this level?" The Green Lantern asked her._

_Diana nodded. "Well at least this Annunki." She said gesturing to the captive in her lariat. "He absolutely believes it." She turned to Ted Knight. "Open the Kraken's carapace." To the Green Lantern she said. "Tell the Merchant Mariners, it's time to go home."_

_"Sure – here goes nothing." Ted said, as he engaged the switch and the adamant shell began to open, exposing the command deck as it did so._

_Diana pressed her fingers to her tiara. "Calling Superman. We are ready to depart – over."_

_The Mental Radio that was duplicated within her ever present invisible plane – in actuality the ever present personification of the gift of Hermes engaged. This was another aspect of the ____Messenger of the gods__ ability. This invisible Mental Radio engaged sending her message to the Man of Tomorrow, but since Kal did not possess a comparable device, the message was one way. Diana appreciated that she needed to change this, but such an invention would have to wait for another time and place._

_A moment later the gap above them in the golden hull had parted wide enough to let her past. Diana leapt upwards becoming airborne, slipping out into the night. No longer dark, the sky now burned with so many lights it was more like the top of the day. Fiery explosions, crackling lightning from Venturian Lances. Diana saw the figure of a youth in star spangled blue uniform tumble from the doorway of the Temple. Then a second larger fellow shot out across the wide open plaza. The first younger man was quickly recovering in the air even as he tumbled back, with all the accomplished grace of a gymnast. The second seemed to be clothed in something purple, he showed no sign of having any control over his fate. Diana reacted to the situation with practised action. Her golden lariat arched across the open space it's loop destined to capture the falling figure as the big man tumbled in arc over the edge of the Citadel's vast balcony, but as she drew the lasso back to her, Wonder Woman was astounded to find the golden line was empty._

_-'S'-_


	79. Chapter 79

1942 part 17

The creatures bounded across the night clothed plains of the Venturian Grasslands. Emerging from the forests of Auria, the bullish but uncertain Men of America accompanied the skittish but accomplished riders from amongst the Aurian males. Together they rode lithe feline mounts. Each beast had a prominent snout, and was as tall as a horse, but longer in the body and narrow waisted, with a lengthy cat like tail. Together these men clung to the strange Aurian beasts, fleet of foot they covered the ground between the woods and the towering Citadel of their enemy with impressive speed.

Lieutenant Holden asked Terry Sloane. "What did you say these cats were called?"

Sloane laughed. "Not cats, but rather they are cat like, I believe they're giant Fossa."

"Whatta?" Laughed Holden.

"Fossa – they're a kind of large Mongoose - that looks like a cat, from Madagascar. Of course these animals are much bigger still."

Holden hung on for dear life. In his pursuit of an illustrious Naval career, this poor boy from the city, had intended to remain on land and meet the right kind of people. Then marry well, and by well he had meant rich. Holden in the pursuit of that kind of well heeled gal. So he had ridden the occasional horse, which to be fair were in short supply in the Bronx. The war had changed both his locale and his priorities. Bringing him and stoic Captain Sherman together aboard the old Sea Tiger. Now what little experience he had in the saddle was been tested to the limit by the acrobatic, and fleet of foot Fossa.

He was glad that both the capitals of the this hidden land lay close to their common border, a dividing line through the centre of lost Atlantis. Holden knew the two cities close proximity was all about some mysterious magical power call the Heart Stone, he didn't claim to understand it. Right now it meant their journey from place to place was measured in many minutes rather than hours. Holden reflected the seat of his service pants wasn't up to that long a run in the saddle – especially an Aurian one.

Sherman rode with a more accomplished style, he wasn't a stranger to the riding it seemed, but mostly the Americans sailors hung on for dear life, and faired less well than Holden. The waif like Aurians pushed their animals hard, and the smaller men made the business of jockeying these feline beasts look easy. They lead the charge, and the other Fossa followed, immune to their inexperienced riders.

Sherman watched as Bob Crane or Robot Man, as the Scientist now called himself, had kept pace with the Aurian Fossa, then as they had run further began to easily outpaced the fleet feline beasts. As if learning his own limits. Only to return to their cavalry charge to report on the path ahead. Robot Man did this several times during their dash across the plains.

Above them the great tower loomed ever taller, and brighter, as the explosive light display of flaming bolts, mixed with lightning snaking, and the glow of the Kraken's impossible tentacles, contrasted against the black night sky.

The plan was simple. With the Venturian's attention drawn by the aerial assault and the Kraken's attack, the Americans would launch a commando style raid on the lower levels.

-'S'-

"What the devil do you think you're doing boy?" The Bat-Man growled. Robin chuckled as he landed lightly on his feet. The Boy Wonder was last figure to exit the portal – and for Bruce an unexpected addition to their numbers. "You were meant to go wait in the car." The Dark Knight grumbled. Behind them the Portal crackled loudly and then it became dark and silent.

In the next few heartbeats the Bat-Man assessed the scene that greeted their arrival in Venturia.

Hovering above them all was brighter still the luminescent Gold and Blue of Doctor Fate. The Hawks hung near by, their Nth Metal wings glimmering within the capacious Temple interior. The Flash was only visible in briefly, when at rest, as he checked on the downed Ha-Mazons. Warrior Guards of this Temple to Venturia's patron god of War. Then the scarlet speedster was gone again onward deeper into the shadows. The Magicians stood by the vast Gateway. Zatara rested his hands on a silver capped cane, which he tapped against the floor. Around his shoulders a dark cape unfurled like a sail, and his fedora shifted into a tall Stovepipe. Zatara looked over at Bat-Man and Robin. He shook his head.

"I'd send you back." Bruce told his ward. He understood Gio's gesture. "But the gateway has reverted back to the Los Angeles Portal." The Bat-Man said, adding. "Stay alert boy."

Gio Zatana said. "It appears Robin is not the only unexpected guest. We arrive here to find our friends already waiting for us."

Sargon the Sorcerer pointed to the vast Temple interior. "And it's fortunate. For they have secured this Portal Chamber." He looked up at the towering statue of the god of war. "This house of Ares."

"Finding our friends was always going to be the easy part." Bruce said to the Magicians.

"So then, all that remains is for us to defeat the Ultra Humanite, and her allies. Locking down of this Portal for good." Gio stated.

Mercy was looking down at the acrobatic boy wonder with a stern gaze, while Dick smiled back at her, an unspoken cheeky excuse for an apology. She turned to them. "Easier said than done Gio, and you more than any one must know," gesturing to the giant women who lay subdued around the Portal itself, "_we_'re not _in Kansas any more._"

In such company, in an alien realm, the Dark Knight was all too aware that he, Mercy and Robin were only human. That the Bat-Man was very much the flittermouse in this game. This was territory of the Ha-Mazon Hunters. Bruce had prepared for this challenge by studying the legends of these Warrior Daughter's of Ares, these women embodied the myth that female of the species is more deadly than male, but myth and legend was not fact and science.

Batman considered their position.

Across from the Portal stood the red and blue of the Man of Tomorrow; his back was turned to Bruce and he appeared to be in conversation with two, no – three women, Bruce observed. Beside Superman was the enigmatic Sandman, also the Crimson Avenger and Wing. They had last been seen in New York, some weeks ago – and yet now they were here too.

Also present was Doctor Mid-Nite. Bruce saw that this skilled surgeon, one Charles McNider. was checking various people over – for reasons the Detective had yet to determine. With them was a strange green luminescence figure of a man he did not recognise.

"More people to worry about?" Mercy accurately guessed his thoughts. She too looked at Lois Lane and Delores De Winters. They were recognisable faces, and Superman's friends.

It seemed to Bruce that the Man of Steel was torn between staying to hear McNider's findings, and leaving, no doubt to go to the fight outside. This only added to Bruce's sense of unease, what trouble was keeping the Man of Tomorrow grounded?

There was another fellow stood with Superman in the shadows, and it was evident to the Bat-Man through his body language, that the third woman was this man's girlfriend. The Detective deduced these were Spy's in the pay of Uncle Sam. Bart Regan he concluded - and logically this made his companion Sally Norris. This in turn explained the presence of the reporter and the actress he thought. All three had disappeared together in LA, shortly after Regan had led his team into the Los Angeles underground.

Bruce cast his eyes around the chamber looking for the Vigilante. He sighted the white hat of the cowboy hero. Lane's father and her boss Taylor had called upon his help. The cowboy hero had been good enough to get into to the thick of it. Commendable, the Bat-Man thought making a mental note.

Bruce counted the members of Regan's A-Team. Fate was above them. He moved deeper into the Temple. Here were the agents codenamed 'Stars and Stripes', recognisable despite their changed outfits, radically in the case of the armour clad Dugan. Likewise Bruce identified Tex Thompson, although he noted that Mr America now sported a red cloak - this was new, so was his ability to fly.

Bruce set this one side, for now it was just another imponderable. Lastly there was the pint sized strongman the Atom, but he noted there was no sign of the big Private Detective Slam Bradley.

The flashing lights beyond the darkness were accompanied by sounds of conflict, and the bellowing roars of strange beasts.

"Definitely not Kansas." He said to Mercy. Through the open Temple doors the Bat-Man saw the night sky burning red and white, and the shadows of great winged animals in flight.

Meanwhile inside this vast House of Ares, the assembled heroes from the West and East coasts spent precious moments greeting each other. Laughter and the pressing of flesh, handshakes and back slaps were quickly exchanged. Bruce examined the armour and weapons of a downed Venturian Warrior.

There is no time for politeness in war, the Bat-Man thought. As the colleagues greeted each other the light that was Doctor descended to the floor, or at least a bare inch or so above it.

Fate spoke to their ensemble. "Greetings Superman. Your presence here was expected."

Superman turned around his face serious.

"Greetings Bat-Man – Gio Zatana, and friends, your arrival was not expected." Fate admitted. "I did not anticipate the balance of our Battalion to arrive from two worlds."

"Locating the lost society members was our intention." The Bat-Man said. It was interesting that Doctor Fate had been surprised by this. Bruce was certain now something was amiss.

"Suddenly the scales are tipped in the favour of Justice." Fate said to him. "And we are glad of that. Although not without unforeseeable consequences."

"Whatever do you mean Kent?" Superman asked stepping forward.

"Yes Fate." Bruce agreed. "What has changed?"

"Your appliance of science Bat-Man - coupled with mastery of magic. The power unleashed by the Blood Stone, Sargon the Sorcerer's Ruby of Life." The Magic Master looked to John Sargent.

The Spectre made his presence known. A white mist appearing around the gateway as the Avenging Angel stood before the stature of Ares, his shape and size so massive that the idol of the war god was obscured behind his dark green cape and cowl.

"You were told." Fate said to him, looking up at the translucent colossus, it was more an accusation than a question.

"That which is, and has, and will be forever be told me." The Spectre boomed. "Only that which is outside the loop of time is able to perceive all things, to know the day and hour – the moment when Fate turns for us all."

"This is why you have come today." Doctor Fate said of the Spectre.

The Bat-Man folded his arms. "Do you understand this esoteric gobbledegook Sargon?"

He asked the Sorcerer because Fate had indicated the Ruby of Life was part of whatever was going on.

"If I read the runes properly Bat-Man I would say that old magic, like the finest of wine was uncorked and measured out – an accident, caused by the temporary sequestration of the inter-dimensional gate from the sealed Los Angeles Underground, to our portal in Gotham."

"Once uncorked old wine can be either very good or very bad." The Bat-Man said. "Which is it today?"

"Consequences." Fate said. It was not an answer. Bat-Man frowned beneath his cowl, he detested magic.

"Such as?" Mercy asked Fate. She tilted her masked face to one side, the half mask and cowl concealed her identity but not the perfection of her features.

"Consequences for those who preceded you." Fate answered. He gestured to the Avengers, and to Lois and Dee Dee, Regan and Norris. "Those who were caught in the Gate, at the moment Zatara and Sargon cast their spells to seize control of the Portal. Each one was exposed to the residual fires of the god-wave - the old magic that beats within the Heart Stone of Atlantis.

"They will never again be the same."

"What of the god-wave?" Superman asked. "What has happened?"

The Bat-Man looked to the Magicians. Gio Zatana shook his head unable to answer an apparently impossible question.

"Where is Slam Bradley and what has happened to my friends?" The Atom demanded.

Batman felt a chill. Had Slam Bradley been lost in the Portal, and were he and the Magicians to blame?

Fate looked down at the stocky pugilist. "You of all people should understand this Atom, for you have endured this marriage of powers – magic and science, and you have been changed by it."

Bruce could see the Atom was first surprised then troubled by Fate's answer.

"Changed how?" Lois Lane asked side stepping the Man of Steel. The girl reporter was inquisitive and brave, Bruce noted.

The figure of green light crackled towards them. "Fate is correct. The marriage of magic and science is the principle behind Ultra's research, and his machines."

"What was Ultra's purpose?" The Bat-Man asked.

"To expose untapped potential in the body of a man." Fate replied.

"To illicit super powers from likely test subjects." The Atom spat. His clenched fist glowed brightly, like an indicator lamp for his righteous indignation. "At least that's what happened to me."

-'S'-

"Wonder Woman!" Johnny Quick caught the flying Amazon Princesses attention as he sped past her, a lesser mortal would not have seen or heard him. Ha-Mazon Knights had already fallen from their saddles, or found their lances knocked from hand, or failing that their aim redirected during combat by the speeding hero.

"The Justice Battalion is here!" Quick said to her as he sped from beast to ground and then beast again.

Diana used her Lasso, the cord whipped around a Pterodactyls neck, she brought the flying reptile down between her and the red and yellow clad man, unseating it's Ha-Mazon rider. Wonder Woman caught the woman with her free hand, then bringing her down hard enough to subdue the Venturian Warrior. The creature in her lariat squawked, and thrashed beside them, but this confusion provided cover for a moment.

"That is unexpected good news." Diana said to Quick. He stopped long enough to listen to the Amazon Princess. Across from them two Archers, American men judging by their size and manner, they were using Aurian weapons, bow and explosive fiery arrows with uncannily accurate effect. The Amazon Warrior admired skill when she saw it.

High above her Diana observed the upper levels of the Citadel. Starman soared away from the Kraken to meet the second wave of Ha-Mazon Knights. His Cosmic Rod extending into the full sized Quarter Staff of battle, and with it in his hands he drove back giant women warriors. His Cosmic power shifting their mass, sometimes increasing the Pterosaurs weight, or that of the riders, causing them to fall or reducing it so that wind takes them away. Equally his rod hit those who came close enough with a mixture of speed, accuracy and bravado. Whilst the energy field extending around Starman from the Cosmic Rod protected him from the lightning blasts of the Venturian Lances.

Diana with one eye on the battle brought Johnny up to speed, saying to fleet of foot American. "We need to get the sailors safe from the Kraken, and into the Temple - to the Portal and back to the real world. And we need to do it quickly." She pointed to the vast golden hull. "That ship is liable to blow up any time soon."

"If it's quick you want, you've come to the right man." Johnny replied.

"We're on it." Said a second voice on the wind. Diana recognised a faster speedster still. It was a fellow Justice Society founding member Jay Garrick. The Flash sped across the open plaza. Directing his speed into offensive whirling winds, his twisters rose up buffeting the enemies Pterosaurs, but not the Aurian's astride their giant bats. Although the Ha-Mazon's had begun with an advantage of numbers, with her help, along with Starman's Cosmic Rod, the Archers - Aurian and American, and the near as invisible speedsters, that numerical advantage was now gone.

Diana looked to the Temple. Where was Superman she wondered? Now more than anything he was needed to save lives, both those of their friends and their foes.

-'S'-

"I feel fine." Lois said to Superman. "Doctor Midnite said so. Now go – go on with you – go help those people, outside."

"Lois..." He said. His face anxious.

She thought about what had been said. That something unexpected had happened, something that might have changed her, and the others who had been in the Portal at the moment it had shifted from LA to Gotham.

Gio Zatana stood across from them, whispering in his backward magical speech his held out his hands towards her like a man warming himself on a fire. "You are fine." He said abruptly. His face said otherwise.

Lois didn't like the look of surprise in his eyes.

Lane was her fathers child. She flounced her hair, looking at Superman whose face still wore a troubled expression. "Told you so." She said. "Gio says I'm fine." She repeated.

The Magician continued saying. "Lois something profound has already happened to you. Before the Portal."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Your blood has a unique life signature, it's one that I've only felt once before." Gio replied. She saw that he was looking at Superman as he answered.

Lois wondered what Gio could mean. Then the Sandman's words to her in New York returned to Lois's mind "_you received a blood transfusion from your partner Clark Kent_."

The Scarlet Avenger stated. "I'm quite unchanged – and feel very much myself."

"As do I." Wing agreed. "But what do feelings have to do with Fate?" He said to his taller companion.

Zatana said nothing more. Lois did not care for the deep frown he wore. What isn't he saying she wondered? I might be fine, or whatever he means by that? But what about the others, Sally, Bart, The Avengers, and where was Slam? Lois swallowed hard. The big man was missing. She found herself worrying about Bradley, which was a first she reflected. Her father voice echoed in her memory, "there are always casualties, one way or another."

The Bat-Man seemed stern. Perhaps that is his character, Lois thought. Gio was concerned and apologetic. Lois knew all this was accidental, a wild coincidence that they had chosen almost the same moment to use the Portal between worlds, but that didn't change the fact Slam Bradley was missing.

Wonder Woman alighted beside them. She nodded a curt greeting in the direction of the Bat-Man, Mercy and Robin; to the Magicians and to the Avengers. The Amazon Princess had been at war, and yet somehow managed to look all the more beautiful despite the stains of battle. Then turning towards her and the others Wonder Woman said. "There is no time. Come Superman. The battle turns in our allies favour."

To her side came the Vigilante, Mr America, and Stars and Stripes. Wonder Woman continued. "The Speedsters and Aquaman are readying the men aboard the Kraken. The Aurians and Starman have the upper hand in the air. There are skilled Archers on the ground. The Green Lantern will create a protective corridor so the sailors can get out and cross the Temple Plaza to here - to the portal, and home."

"We will still need to defeat the Ultra Humanite." Batman observed. "The Los Angeles Underground is sealed."

"True." Diana agreed. "But the men from the Kraken are safer there, than here."

"What do you need Diana?" Doctor Fate asked.

"The Kraken's great engine is overloaded, once it is evacuated Aquaman will release it from the Citadel." To Superman she said. "Kal, we need to make sure it is as far away from everyone before it finally explodes." She added by way of explanation. "The Typhon told us this is an ancient Hyperion Generator."

Lois knew immediately from her own experiences the threat such an explosion posed.

The Man of Steel nodded. "How long have we have got?"

-'S'-

Robot Man charged the gates that barred entry to the lower levels of the towering Venturian city. Chuck Grayson watched as his friend reincarnated as something neither exactly man or machine tore through the closed doors like a battering ram.

"He has the measure of himself now it seems." Captain Sherman noted, as the latter day mechanical Samson, wrenched the doors from the walls of the Citadel and cast them aside.

Grayson knew what Sherman meant. The hesitant steps first made by the almost adolescent clumsy Robot Man had been replaced with sure footed assurance and explosive power. Crane had lost a good deal of his humanity when he cheated death, but in exchange his strength had been multiplied. Following Robot Man the American's surrendered their mounts to the Aurian jockey's, the waif like men's role was supportive.

"Now for the real fighting," Sherman said, "and this is a job for the Navy."

-'S'-

Steve Trevor, staggered forward, sword in hand it dripped red with the blood of the oversized boar he had slain, cowering behind him were men of Lost Atlantis, skinny and weak.

He bellowed. "Come on you bitches." He pounded his bare chest, for in the fire flooded light of this gladiatorial pit, this arena of death and tears, he stood naked. His bare feet on the sand, around him lay the bodies of three great pigs, their guts spilled onto the dry grit of the stadium. The boars viscous tusks had killed some of the weaker native men, despite Steve's valiant efforts, but the American had stood tall, both literally and in the final outcome. Now Captain Trevor turned his attention to the packed galleries. Where His Ha-Mazon tormentors had first bayed for his life.

The cries and cat calls of the Venturian Women had grown ever louder as he had spilled blood. Until his bravery had won them over to whoops of delight. Now the vocal audience fell silent as a klaxon resounded even more loudly than the crowds screams, echoing through the enclosed theatre.

Trevor his bloodied sword raised in defiant victory, watched as the women ran from their seats. It was he thought a call to arms, his thoughts raced. This was an opportunity Steve Trevor wasn't going miss.

The brutality of the last hour had concentrated his mind. Never a man to shy away from a fight, a trained soldier and spy, Trevor knew enough about his own limits to understand that here in the lighter gravity of this strange pocket universe he had an advantage. His muscles used to Earth norms made him stronger than the native men at least. With a bounding run he leapt upwards. His hand scraped he high walls edge, one handed he was able to pull himself up and over into the amphitheatres seated area.

A Venturian woman draws her own sword, and attacks. Trevor had some fencing under his belt, and he prayed his college hobby would be enough. Steve parries her thrust, and side steps. Her long reach was going to prove tricky, but his athleticism gave him the advantage of speed.

The snap of gunfire echoed from below, and it was a welcome sound. Steve stuck and dodged his taller opponent, now more hopeful, for gunpowder was not used by the native of lost Atlantis, it could mean only one thing, his countrymen were coming.

-'S'-

Alan Scott felt the touch of Wonder Woman's Mental Radio crossing the short distance from Temple to the Kraken. "Alan the Portal home exists and its open, just as that Reptilian Captain promised. There's more," Diana continued, "there's an All Star Squadron of heroes within the Temple. They came looking for us, and they've secured the Gateway between worlds. Please begin the evacuation."

Alan saw Doctor Fate rise above the Plaza, releasing pulses of energy as he did so, these formed into his signature ankh shaped symbol as they exploded against the Ha-Mazon's who still threatened the Kraken.

Scott felt like punching the air, now events had turned in their favour. Alan had been separated by this, his latest adventure, from the mysterious source of the ring's creation of energy rendered into solid forms for the longest time since acquiring the mystical Green Lantern, from which he had taken his name. For this reason even though after he and Starman had recovered both Ted's rod and his ring from their reptilian captors, Alan had decided not to draw on the stored power within this ring until absolutely necessary. He had no way of knowing how soon he would be reunited with the Green Lantern proper, and using his will to manipulate this energy into material constructs, would in time deplete the ring to the point of being useless. Until now Alan Scott had worked as a man among men, but now his moment had come. With great relish he willed his power ring into action, enacting their plan.

The Green Lantern created in the translucent green of illuminated dark glass, a covered walk way between the precarious Kraken, held by purple-pink tendrils to the towering citadel, and into the Temple of Ares. As he created a safe passage for the kidnapped sailors, he saw how his fellow Heroes were coming forward and join their allies – the Aurian Knights upon their Flying Fox-Bat mounts.

To the side of the Green Arrow and Speedy flew the Star Spangled Kid. Acrobatic and powerful, he delivered a message both to the Arrows and to the Ha-Mazon horde. Following in a heavy but deceptively fast run, was the figure of Pat Dugan – his ring confirmed, for the big man was encased in ancient Atlantean armour. Using him for cover ran three figures. First the Vigilante, his guns blazing bright almost flare like rounds at the Ha-Mazon enemy. As from the City itself foot soldiers emerged to counter attack, and reinforce the depleted ranks of their Pterosaurs Knights. With him was the Crimson and Golden Avengers, their guns sounded too. The Green and Red Arrow fell back to where Dugan stood, ready to return to the Temple – to go home. These Seven Soldiers held a rolling defensive position against the swarm of Ha-Mazon Warriors who poured from the Citadel.

The Green Lantern reflected how the battle was shifting, with the emergence of the sailors and crew from the Kraken, the Venturians had grasped their intentions, and now Queen Clea was directing all the Warriors she could to the Temple courts. The tower-city echoed with a terrible sounding klaxon, a call to arms for the Warriors of this Capital of Venturia.

Within the green energy tunnel Alan directed the exodus from the Kraken; his voice relayed through the construct. "Run to the Temple." He instructed. The ring repeated this command in the various appropriate languages. Both Allied Merchant Sailors, and their prisoners, the Axis men and even the Typhon reptilians, ran under the Green Lanterns protective shield into the Temple. There waited the Bat-Man, Mercy and Robin, along with Sally Norris and Bart Regan, who held the Portal secure.

The Green Lantern's senses were heightened by the emerald power of his ring, allowing him to perceive time at an accelerated rate. He could see the Speedsters, the Flash and Johnny Quick movements, even though they were invisible to the human eye. They worked on the other side of his energy construct Jay and Johnny's great speed met a next wave of Venturian arms. Foot soldiers swarmed from secondary routes into the Temple Plaza. The dark figure of Doctor Mid-Nite, clambered above them, and he brought further darkness to the unnaturally brightened night, his black out bombs plunging the attacking Ha-Mazons into blindness. Emerging confused these giant women were met by the near invisible blurs of the two speedsters, whose multiple punches crackled like automatic fire, bringing unconsciousness to the armed Venturian soldiers.

Hawk man and Hawk Girl had joined Starman above, aiding Ted Knight with their Nth Metal wings and maces. Together these three established Air Superiority above the Temple Plaza. So much so that the Aurian Fox Bat's ran short of targets in flight, and they began landing on the various levels of the tower-city, their riders invading the Venturian Citadel.

Seconds later he heard. "We're ready." The words entered his mind, and he knew it was Diana across the Amazon Mental Radio in message primary directed to Aquaman.

The purple-pink tendrils of energy that snaked out from the Kraken shuddered, and then in a slot second the tentacles were gone. Yet the Kraken did not fall because Superhuman hands held it in place. Aquaman had thrown the switch, turning off the Krakens energy arms, shutting down its systems. The Sea King now leapt from the control deck down and away from the precarious vessel, the last man to leave the golden hull.

Superman and Wonder Woman were ready, as soon as Arthur Curry gave them a wave of his green gloved hand to indicate the last of the crew were evacuated, together the two titans lifted the vast Kraken from the Temple Plaza, and slowly the ancient vessel crept skyward.

Then in this same moment - all hell broke loose.

From above them descended Queen Clea herself. The Venturian Monarch had bided her time, even letting her Warriors fall and fail, but now she acted. Alan saw Clea fall from her hiding place high above, astride her vast Pterodactyl. In Clea's hand was Posideon's trident extended and lance like she charged at Superman, all the while sending pulses of Magical energy into the Man of Tomorrow's body.

Alan's confidence faltered, long seconds past as he watched Diana fighting to hold the damaged Kraken aloft, and the men escape to the Temple's Portal Gateway.

Superman's power to negate mass had until Clea's attack, dramatically reduced the absolute weight of the adamant vessel. Alan had been told that the ancient engine had become a colossal bomb. One which could kill them all. Now Diana had to carry it all.

The Green Lantern counted the seconds as Clea charged, as the last of sailors ran through his safe corridor across the cracking and creaking Plaza. He must wait until they reached the relative safety of the Temple, and until they did, he dare not redirect the energy of his Power ring. He trusted his friends to intervene.

Sure enough Doctor Fate had spied Clea's dive, and understood her intentions. Fate raced to counter the Trident of Zeus's viscous magical attack. The Green Lantern thought; best to meet sorcery with sorcery, as he concentrated on holding his bridge secure.

Fate's Gold cape fluttered as he sped to the Man of Steel's aid.

Then from behind the Ultra Humanite struck.

Alan saw her appear in the night sky, her form pulsing in the red fire of the purloined blood stone. Like a vast artillery shell Ultra shot towards Doctor Fate. Magic energy poured from this possessed iron golem, carrying her through the air a flashing angry red torch in the night. The Emerald Knight recognised the source of the fiery aura, kindred to his own green light. Red from the Power Stone resting on Ultra's forehead.

She drove into the Magic Master's exposed back, and red light exploded angrily, sending Fate tumbling hard to the floor of the already damaged and Plaza. Driven through the stone Fate and Ultra fell together a brilliant flame of red and gold tumbling towards the ground.

The Queen of Venturia was almost upon Superman, her trident's three magically sharp points plunged toward his heart, and Superman seemed helpless, in agony and unable to react. He was transfixed by the pain of the magic assault on the water that constituted so much of his body's mass, showing no sign of being able to escape the enchanted blades.

In that split second the Green Lantern saw Diana let the Kraken fall. She arrived between the points of Clea's Trident, her wrists crossed extending the magic of the Aegis Shield of Zeus invisibly around her, god-brother powers clashed above the citadel, as Posiedon's trident met the King of the god's invulnerable buckler. The Kraken pitched over as it tumbled.

Superman gasped in pain and determination and moved. Clea's magic attack was redirected at Wonder Woman. His extended hands caught the Kraken. Below them stone rained down on the lower levels of the Tower-city as the adamant hull smashed through the Plaza like thunderous hammer.

Superman arrested the Krakens fall, but not before the vast balcony suspended outside the Temple of Ares shuddered and cracked apart.

Only Alan's will embodied by the Green Lanterns power kept the translucent luminescent passage safe for the last retreating men.

It had all happened so very quickly.

Wonder Woman at the same time wrestled Clea free from the saddle of her winged reptile. The pterodactyl fell away spooked by the falling, crashing, Kraken. As Superman caught the vast boat, The two women battled each other. Both had a hand grasping the all powerful Trident, and with their other, Diana and Clea were free to punch and strike. The Ha-Mazon lashing out with her longer legs, the Amazon moving with greater grace and speed.

The Green Lantern's confidence grew. He believed Superman would prevail in his battle against the Annunki vessel and gravity. Sure enough the Man of Steel rose upwards, his cloak stretched broad like a shield shaped sail in the night as Superman inched the vast boat higher, gaining momentum, taking away the bomb by another name away from the populated city-tower.

Just as Alan Scott saw the last man safely into the temple through his bridge, another dark shape emerged from night. Vast and red, luminescent. Fifty feet long, eight tons in weight, a six foot head filled with 12 inch long dagger teeth.

The Green Lantern was amazed by what he saw. A huge dinosaur climbed through the night sky like a great crocodile might swim in water. The Red Tyrannosaurus Rex, it's vast tail thrashing behind it, flew through the the black sky like a red hot coal. Leaving in it's wake a fiery angry trail like a comets corona. This energy was red like burning blood, and it seemed to pour from the Dinosaurs mouth as the monster flew. The Green Lantern knew instinctively that this raging aura, was the same as the energy that emanated from the Power Stone Ultra wore on her forehead.

This prehistoric beast was possessed by a power and purpose beyond the natural. Somehow a Blood Stone had transformed it, and it was from this magical source that burning raging fire poured from its mouth.

The T-Rex struck.

Alan wondered what intelligence drove it as with an incredible burst of speed the monstrous carnivore clamped it's mouth around the Man of Steel. Pulling him from the belly of the Kraken, causing the vessel to tumble once more, the full power of the Blood Stone magic empowered Tyrant Lizard was demonstrated, as this super Tyrannosaur dragged Superman into the night.


	80. Chapter 80

1942 part 18

The Heart Stone of Lost Atlantis nestled in the earth. A shining diamond in the heart of the crater made aeons ago when the rainbow of Star Hearts fell collectively, driven by unseen powers to the great island continent. Heralding an age of magic.

From his lofty perch high in the Venturian Citadel the Nazi Scientist and hybrid clone stood an impassive observer. The Crystal Skull's Nazi SS uniform was black and crisp, the silver detailing gleamed in the light of conflict, as did his features. His face was no longer human. Zolar-Luthor ignored the battle royal that played out below him. Aurians clashed with Venturians. Allies and enemies clashed. Pawns were sacrificed, pawns in Clea's long game.

He watched Superman fall, and the Kraken tumble, as the Lizard Luthor, his brother clone returned to the fight transformed, taking over the body of a prehistoric terrible lizard predator.

"Take him brother, and kill him." Zolar whispered.

-'S'-

Superman pulled his damaged legs free from the jaws of the Tyrannosaurus Rex. There was no time to scream. Adrenaline surged through him, their was no time to think of pain. Only fight. He landed a double handed punch on the nose of the monster carnivore. The night air resounded with the sound,

At last its jaws parted, and the daggers withdrew from the meat of him.

A mere animal, even one weighing eight tonnes, would have been pulverised like so much mince in a grinder by that incredible super-blow, but not this beast. Red angry magic coursed around it, a protective envelope.

Superman battled on. Magic absorbed much of the force of his fists, but not it all. The dinosaur was phased by his jabs. The Man of Steel ignored his bloody knuckles, the least of his problems. He just needed to keep up the pace, despite the pain, the blood loss, the injury. His legs were crushed, but healing.

As Superman bled into the night, he thanked his long dead parents for giving him a steely constitution, as his flesh knitted together even as he danced in the air. Increased pain told him his nerves were knitting together, the agony kept him angry.

The Man of Steel weaved an invisible blur, either side of the lightning fast jaws. A macabre aerial ballet, between mismatched combatants. Superman struck at the vast head, it presented a wide target. The carnivores small but powerful arms thrashed. He hung back dodging this maelstrom claws. The tail twitched behind the beast, and teeth found his cape. The carnivore tugged. Superman fell towards the vast talons on the monsters feet. Yet this Superboy from Smallvile had learned the skills of an acrobat, honed on the dusty Kansas plain, and Superman twisted in flight stretching his Kryptonian weave red cloak around the beasts nose. Blinding its eyes. The red material enveloped the monster's head, binding the T-Rex. Superman fell over the beasts back, releasing the cape from his neck. He grabbed hold of the long tail as he sped past, as with all his might he span the Dinosaur, then releasing the creature away downwards to the ground. Following the beast at tremendous speed, pushing through his pain, he drove to follow through with what he hoped would be a decisive punch.

-'S'-

The Crystal Skull saw his brother fall. Enveloped in a red cloak trailing a red aura, the Tyrannosaur plunged earthwards. Yet Zolar now ignored this fight. Just as he looked beyond the fight in and around the Citadel's Temple of Ares.

The Crystal Skull stared into the distance. His eyes pierced the nights clear cold air without the aid of field glasses. Out to the border of the two realms of this Lost Land. Telescoping to where the Heart Stone lay.

Zolar's super human strengths had come with a price. His fearsome face. Both his Crystal visage his and abilities were the result of an accident. Magic from another time had sought to dominate science from another place. Their child was Kryptonite.

The green radiant metal had yielded its crystalline form. Lex Luthor the American defector to Hitler's cause had experimented with Kryptonite in tandem the Annunki's technology to clone the Man of Tomorrow. To make ordinary human beings super men too.

This was Luthor's promise to the Fuhrer. An army of ubermen to conquer the world.

Zolar was one rare survivor among the test subjects. The Lizard Luthor was another. There were always unpredictable mutations, most of which were lethal.

Kryptonite enabled the cloning process by breaking the defences within Superman's purloined blood. It also however broke the very genetic code Luthor sought to steal. Necessitating the addition of material from a second donor.

Zolar's face had been destroyed in a terrible explosion. Had he been a mere human – say like his creator Lex Luthor, whom he had once so closely resembled, Zolar would have died.

The Crystal Skull lived because mutated and dormant Kryptonian genes had been triggered by the blast. Zolar-Luthor had lived and healed, but he was not so much scarred as transformed. The damaged tissue had only partially repaired itself and in doing so had taken on the appearance of crystal. He now embodied the silver deaths head mascot of the SS. He was the Crystal Skull.

In the night he could see the dark shape of the old hag. This was his ally. This was Bertha Holde in her transient ghostly form – as Berchta the Witch. Her mission was all important, and she was sinking towards the fabled Heartstone.

It had been the Witch who had saved them both from death, snatching them from the jaws of defeat at the hands of Superman, and the Hawks. From a fiery death. Witchcraft had transported them back to the occult Keep of Castle Wewelsburg. Back to their olden god newly remade, Wotan.

-'S'-

Wonder Woman spat blood from her mouth as she wrestled with Clea. With Diana's fingers locked around the magic Trident too, Clea was unable to direct the power it contained.

It was a battle of will.

The bigger Ha-Mazon was strong, but not Diana's physical match, despite her size. At least that was true once the Amazon caught her breath again. Moments before Diana had felt pain. The assault from Posideon's Trident pulling at the very water within her body. Even through the envelope of Zeus's mighty Aegis, it was bruising. Wonder Woman was determined to end this fight quickly, to take the Trident from the Queen, to permanently deprive Clea of its terrible magic power.

Below the ground shook and the great tower-city swayed as the Kraken struck the citadel on it's way down, smashing through jutting levels as it tumbled. The destruction serving at least to slow the adamant vessels fall.

Diana caught sight of an Emerald Knight in flight.

She could also see Superman freeing himself from the jaws of the super beast, it pained Diana to watch the Man of Tomorrow prize apart the monster's jaws, to see his bloody legs torn free from those dagger teeth. This was no ordinary monster that resisted the Man of Steel's strength. Flying in red fiery aura in a manner that reminded the Amazon of the Green Lantern, and it was Alan Scott who came to their aid. Freed now from his role as protector of the fleeing sailors and their erstwhile captors, now turned his attention to the Kraken.

Like a green flare, an emerald fire in the night sky, fell after the plunging Kraken. His power ring extending a green hand of enormous size like a catchers mitt around the tumbling vessel. The Green Lantern began to wrestle with the boat driving it away from the coast, and out to sea.

-'S'-

Doctor Fate suffered no illusions as he struggled with Ultra. Laying the stump of the broken floor of the once broad Plaza. The Helm of Nabu saw through the sorcery of the Ultra Humanite's Ghost. His gloved fist appeared to meet the face that Ultra shared with the movie star Delores De Winters. It did not. In truth Fate saw the hardness of a iron golem, sexless, lifeless, and unyielding. Fate's costume was conceived by magic, but thanks to Kent Nelson it was practical too. Where magic failed brute force could sometimes succeed. Hidden within the golden gloves was a steely core. The sound of his knuckle duster was as a hammer to Utlra's anvil jaw. The blow rang out like a bell. Phased by the physical attack, by the ringing vibration within the metal of her body, Ultra tumbled back. Doctor Fate rolled to his feet, and unleashed his magic. Golden ankh crosses burst from his fingers, and buffeted Ultra casting the feminine figure back like a doll thrown through the doors of the Temple.

Ultra was driven over the defensive line of the Sea King – Aquaman, Dugan in his armour, the Atom, the Green Arrow and Speedy, and the Vigilante. The Magic Master in flight followed his enemy inside.

Ultra rallied. The Ghost in the iron maiden came to a stop. Hovering before the towering statue of Ares. Ultra hung stationary in air above the portal, surrounded by the red aura pouring from the power stone she wore.

Fate roared at Ultra saying. "Now I will take from you possession of the Gate."

Zatana and Sargon the Sorcerer, stepped out from the doorway's shadows. Gio called out "eb dnuob - _be bound_."

Tendrils of light washed around Ultra, Sargon touching Gio's shoulder, reached out and grasped the metal of the great Gate between Worlds. His Ruby Stone of Life glowed as the Power Stone throbbed within his turban. Old magic coursed from within through him to the gate, and through Zatana and by his binding spell to Ultra. Fate reached out and grasped hold of the power stone set in the head of iron golem. Nabu's golden light mixing with the red of the Power Stone, burning like the heart of some terrible furnace.

"We have the gate, the trinity of magicians called out."

-'S'-

The Bat-Man heard Fate's call. He took one side with Doctor Mid-Nite and Robin. Bart Regan took the other with the Star Spangled Kid. Together they began herding by encouragement the allied sailors to the open door. The men hesitated. Hovering before the dark shadowy purple blackness.

Then to everyone's surprise a man emerged from the darkness. His black torso complimented by a yellow cloak. He cut a familiar figure.

"Hey fella's." Hour-Man announced as he stepped forward. "Where have you guys been - it's been lonely on the home front I can tell you?" He looked above him at the figure of Ultra trapped in Magicians triad of power, and whistled. "Busy I see."

"Glad you made it." Doctor Mid-Nite said. He grabbed Rex Tylers shoulder manfully. "Thanks for keeping the home fires burning."

"Some one had to." Hour-Man acknowledged. Saying. "Doctor Occult felt Ultra's seals fall almost an hour ago." Rex Tyler informed them. "I came through to see what was keeping you all this side of reality." He pointed upwards. "I'm guessing it was Ultra?"

"The Gate has been ours for less than a minute." The Bat-Man explained.

Rex frowned beneath his mask. "Oh Right" He smiled apologetically. "That's what the Doc warned might happen."

The Bat-Man had already come to this conclusion.

Doctor Mid-Nite said it. "That time passes more quickly here than in the real world." He asked the Hour-Man. "How long have I been missing?"

"Yes - what date is it?" Regan interjected.

"It was October fourth when I left."

"My god." Regan spat. "We've been gone months."

Mid-Nite nodded. "We've no time to waste waiting here – the wars going to be over before we get back if we don't get moving."

"We should send the women and children first." Regan said.

"Hell no." Sally Norris snapped. "Regan we go together this time - or not at all."

"And I'm staying to see the end of this story." Lois added. "Even if Taylor will never print it." She muttered. "I want to see our boys from the submarine safe."

"And I want to see these big bats up close, and I want a ride on one, and maybe we could take a couple back with us – what do you think Bat-Man?" Robin asked with a smirk. Adding in all seriousness. "I'll keep these girls safe until we have to go."

Mercy folded her arms and said nothing.

"I should go." Delores De Winters said. "But something tells me I need to stay – and that we should not waste time arguing chivalry. We must get these sailors here, back to their families."

The Bat-Man shook his head. "Very well, there is no time to argue." He said to his partner. "Mercy these people are in your care." To Robin. "Keep alert boy, I'm sure the Flash and Quick will be along shortly with the other missing Americans."

His implication was clear he trusted. Robin and Mercy were to get out of Venturia.

Hour-Man shook his head, which was as much to say 'dames' and turned to the allied seaman."Well fella's - what's you waiting for. It's America the other side of this door. We've got people, doctors, food, medicines on the other side – how about it?"

"October?" An Irish accent called out. Disbelieving whispering echoed among the men.

Hour-Man pressed on. "Come on guys don't you want to see California, Hollywood and L.A?"

"Blimey." Said an Englishman. "In for a penny in for a pound." The young officer stepped up, and took the plunge. Others followed his lead, and the soon the allied seaman were hurrying from the Temple and through the strange portal between worlds. Quickly they left their enemies, the seaman's former captors under the watchful guard of the guns of the Crimson Avenger and Wing.

The Bat-Man listened to their conversation.

"During the fight did you ever reload?" Wing asked his Partner.

"No, I didn't see you do either."

Wing shook his head.

"I've lost count how many bullets I've fired out there." Travis said.

This time Wing nodded. "That's my point Lee. It's like I can't run out of ammunition."

"Your thinking this is a consequence of the magic unleashed by the Heart Stone of Atlantis?" The Crimson Avenger suggested.

Wing nodded.

Travis continued. "Our weapons have been affected it seems – as was the Vigilante's, but again differently. Our bullets are still hot lead as usual."

"Except unusually our guns never seem to empty." Wing agreed. "But what about us." He tapped his chest.

His partner could only shake his head.

The Bat-Man wondered what this might mean.

As the last of the allied sailors left them. Bruce Wayne turned to Rex Tyler. "I don't like it."

"What do mean?" The Hour-Man asked.

The Bat-Man said. "It's all been too easy."

Jay Garrick appeared. "Tell that to Superman."

The Dark Knight scowled. "Why is Clea abandoning Ultra." He gestured to the suspended faux woman, "and why is she letting us corner this Gate?" The Bat-Man observed.

"I thought we had to fight for it?" The Star Spangled Kid asked.

"Maybe." Bat-Man said. "Maybe that's what they want us to think."

-'S'-

It seemed inexplicable that something so precious should rest in a hollow in the earth, unguarded, and exposed to the elements. The Crystal Skull knew what seemed to be, and what was, were in practise very different.

Like an iceberg most of the Heart Stone was sunk into the bedrock of the Lost Land, and from it lines of power ran like a vascular system throughout the two fiefdoms.

Bertha Holde hung above the vast gemstone. The Witch began her work weaving incantations with hand and mouth. From her bag she drew vials of blood. As she chants she pours the red water of life onto the exposed crown of the Heart Stone. The Crystal Skull had no meat on his face to smile, no means of demonstrating emotion, save for his voice. So it was when he laughed, a quiet cackle of, "eh, eh, eh,..." it was all the more sinister.

-'S'-

Wonder Woman could see the advantage was theirs. Together the Allies now out gunned their Venturian enemy, and strategically there only remained one leveller - the Trident of Posideon. It fell to Diana to press home her advantage. To deny Clea that power.

Then she was struck from behind. Her eyes in a fraction of second absorbed the horrible visage of her attacker, in his black SS uniform. An extended gloved hand struck her arm with super human force. Diana felt the bones crack, she growled as a wounded animal, and helpless, for her grip around the Trident was broken. She saw the burning blue eyes of the Crystal Skull, as he fell between them. Like a bullet he smashed into what was left of the broken Plaza, kicking back he leapt back upwards at her, climbing even as the masonry below him fell.

Clea fell too. She had no Pterodactyl to give her wings, Diana was caught between choices. The Venturian Queen raised the Trident. Diana braced herself for the oncoming onslaught, even as she dived to save her enemy. Then Clea did the strangest thing, she cast the ancient weapon away.

"Fly fast and true." Was the incantation Clear voiced as she bid the Trident goodbye.

Diana was shocked. Had the Queen of the Ha-Mazons given up? Did she think her fate was sealed that she was going to fall to her inevitable death? Wonder Woman thought about her enemies motives as she pressed every closer intending to save her.

Seconds past. Diana saw how the tumbling Clea was being plucked from the air by one of her own Knights. As a new wing of Pterosaurs and riders emerged from stabling situated on the lower levels, below the Temple.

Reinforcements, and late to the field. Diana recalculated her strategy. Something was amiss.

At once the forces of Queen Eeras converged on their enemy. Starman and the Hawks with them. Diana had wasted enough time in her dive to save Clea. She kicked back at the returning Crystal Skull whose great leap had taken him on an attack course towards her. He rolled back, unable to defy gravity. Even so he was a determined and powerful opponent according to Superman's account of his battle with this supposedly dead Nazi.

Diana put such thoughts to one side. There was the pressing matter of the Sea god's totem. The Amazon Princess flew after Posideon's three pronged spear.

Diana was glad to glimpse the formidable armoured form of Pat Dugan rising to meet the tumbling SS Officer. His advanced Atlantean Armour having a rocket pack built in the back piece. Stripes grabbed the Crystal Skull smashing him back into the broken plaza, and onto the Temple Steps.

Diana was grateful to Dugan for meeting the challenge of the Crystal Skull. He had freed her to chase the glowing Trident. Distant it was like a falling star, then there was blackness as the weapon arched into the whispers of dark cloud that washed around the sky scraping tower. Once in the water vapour the magical object of power vanished.

The Amazon was mystified. Her hunters eye knew that some spell had been cast, and she invoked her god mother Artemis of the Hunt as she scoured the night sky for a sign.

-'S'-

"Seriously" Johnny Quick said with his arms crossed. "I got here first."

"Don't be so sure." Jay Garrick replied, he raised an eyebrow and tipped his helmet to a jaunty angle, enacted faster than Steve Trevor could discern. "Someone had to open these cell doors." The Flash pointed to where the dungeons disappeared into the Citadel's foundations. Prisoners teamed from their confines, among the many Venturians, were the captured crew of the Sea Tiger.

Trevor saw how the speedsters would shift their position as if badly animated, it seemed like magic, standing one way and then another. Like a movie with frames missing. They moved so rapidly.

The Flash and Johnny Quick were laughing. That they made time for humour in the midst of this was very human.

"Yeah you guys are great." Trevor said. "How about finding me some pants?"

"That would be good." Trevor's boss, Colonel Darnel noted. The army officer pointed to the sailors led by Captain Sherman. "And if you fast talking gents would be so kind, could show us how to get the hell out of here?"

-'S'-

Diana heard the sounds of the Americans going home through the portal, back to Los Angeles. An important victory Diana reflected. Her enemy Clea had retreated back to her city. The Aurians, with the Hawks and Starman were engaging the second wave of Ha-Mazon Knights. Superman was coping with his attacker.

In truth she was torn, longing to dive into both fights, but Athena's wisdom guided her. She knew the Trident was too greater weapon of magical dominance to be lost, too much of threat. This was her task.

Behind her Aquaman launched himself from the edge of the citadel back into the waters of the deep harbour below, to rehydrate himself no doubt Diana guessed.

Wonder Woman continued her search. Then her eyes caught sight of the burning Trident emerging from a distant cloud. Magically the weapon had been translocated to the geographical centre of the two bordering Lost Lands of Atlantis. The three pronged spear fell. Wonder Woman left in her wake a noise like thunder as the Amazon Princess accelerated to meet the plunging weapon.

The distance however too great and the time too short. In this terrible moment Clea's mad intention was revealed to the Amazon, and she could scarcely believe the Ha-Mazon Queen could contemplate it.

The Trident fell from the clouds, it flew straight and fast striking the bloodied crown of the Heart Stone.

Old magics met, and clashed. Bladed points enchanted to cut through any substance, met a metamorphic crystal bound together by an ancient spell, and this god forged weapon cleaved the Heart stone in twain.

It was at first sight a senseless act of vandalism, one that would plunge the two magic dependent societies of Lost Atlantis into a technological dark age. Depriving their devices, even their weapons of power.

Then the old magic bit back. The sound of the shattering gemstone hit Diana, a wave of noise and air, it whipped across the lost land, in every extending ripples of volatile energy.

-'S'-

Superman felt the wave of power pass him by, he felt his hairs stand on end, and a sense of its passing, but this was fleeting. Yet it seemed to slam into his magical opponent. The creature roared a terrible noise, and it's aura flickered as the sound like shattering glass washed over them. The Man of Tomorrow did not hesitate, he took advantage of this moment.

Tumbling toward the fast approaching ground he became a surgeon. In the split second while the aura faded away, Superman plunged his hand towards the creatures belly, while his heat vision snapped at the meat of the dinosaur. The Man of Tomorrow opened a key hole into the carnivores gut, and with incredible speed he thrust his hand inside her, drawing out from the beast the power stone that had once graced the Temple of Sea-god Posideon at Sounion. That had more recently rested in the Lizard-Luthor's chest.

Super Man felt the stone sharp and hard against his hand. He resisted the temptation to test his strength, and instead warily tucked it in his costume's hidden pocket.

At the same time he cauterised the animals wound, sealing it. The Tyrannosaur was about to strike the ground, no longer magical, it could no longer defy gravity. Superman valuing life arrested it's fall, swiftly depositing the confused dinosaur back upon the Venturian Planes. Where it staggered stunned away.

Leaping skyward the Man of Tomorrow gritted his teeth and flew back to the tower-city.

-'S'-

"The god-wave!" Doctor Fate shouted. The Magic Master's hands gripped the Helmet of Nabu as if in great pain. The pulse of energy had reached the Temple of Ares. The room shook. Ripples of static washed across the Towering City. Zatara fell gasping. Sargon let out a low pitched wail. The Ultra-Humanite fell to the ground with a dull metallic thud.

Batman watched as first the Actress De Winters fainted then both Regan and Norris fell to the ground as if struck down. Stars and Stripes staggered, the former lightly like the dancer, the latter like a punch drunk fighter.

"What's happening Bat-Man?" Robin gasped.

"Magic." The Dark Knight growled. "Some kind of negative reaction, it's shorting people out." He noted it was effecting magic uses, or those with magic abilities and devices. "We should fall back. I need to think this through." He said to Mercy.

She in turn said. "Darling quick, help me pick them up."

The Bat-Man was already pulling Regan to his feet.

The strange static had lasted but a moment, and was past. The Dark Knight shook the spy, as Mercy and Robin tended to Sally Norris and Dee Dee. Mid-Nite stood with Lois Lane. The girl reporter seemed to be okay.

Doctor Fate's golden aura returned and he rose from the floor like the rising sin, he was not alone. Zatara sprang to his feet, Sargon rolled upright. The Ultra Humanite too arose. Washing the Statue of Ares red as she stood. The Power Stone of Zeus burned all the more bright. As if recharged. Red aura met gold.

The Bat-Man could not help compare it to the dawn and he remembered the old adage, red sky in the morning Shepherds warning. The Dark Knight turned to his flock.

The Allied Sailors were safely through the gate, but their former captors were yet to travel, and everyone of them to man, and Lizard had fallen too. From the Temple Door the others came running, the Arrows, Vigilante and the Atom.

Slowly ahead of them, the Nazi's rose, groaning spitting and moaning. Changing before their eyes - taking the form of savage hairy beasts. The Bat-Man found their appearance not like that of Lon Chaney, Jr. as The Wolf Man in the previous years horror movie, only more terrible for being real.

The Annunki too seemed to regress alongside the humans into a more primitive form, becoming more lizard like, their claws grew larger, along with whip like tails, and wide gaping teeth filled mouths. On each foot they sported a particularly viscous claw.

Others including the Doctor Jakob Fange, were affected differently. Fange shook his body seemed to emaciate. He became bones. A skeleton save for his narrow face, the rest of him clothed in shadows. In any time or place the Bat-Man would have thought such a transformation fatal, but rather this living skeleton began to laugh.

"I am Black Jack, Doctor Jakob Fange. I am Bones. I am death, and monsters are mine to command." Around him the beast men and velociraptors congregated, yipping like pups to heel.

The Dark Knight saw the Gate was blocked by the newly invigorated Ultra. Regan was still groggy, Norris and De Winters were still out cold.

Gio Zatara looked at them and mouthed "go". He said. "I've got this – get the girls to safety."

Bat-Man nodded. It was too late to regret their decision to stay. This was the time for action.

Doctor Mid-Nite, the Bat-Man's fellow Justice Society colleague, answered. An explosion of black from his unique grenades washed over temple blocking the supernatural light show beyond. The Bat-Man in the cover of darkness gathered together Regan, Norris, Dee Dee, with Mercy and Robin the Dark Knight made a tactical withdrawal. Mid-Nite took Lane.

-'S'-

Superman swept low over the waving grassland sea, he poured on the speed going vertical to the citadel.

His arms wrapped around Wonder Woman. She fell through the air as if winded, dizzy, lost.

"Diana?" He asked. He had seen her and acted in a split second.

"I don't know." She replied. "Something. Something has happened. Everything has changed. Clea has broken the Heart of Atlantis."

Superman scanned the Temple with his x-ray like vision, and was stunned by what he saw. Monsters, man and reptile. Lois was gone, he saw her with the Bat-Man and Mid-Nite. Satisfied Superman's incredible vision turned outwards he looked to the Green Lantern.

Alan was carrying away the broken and dangerous ancient vessel the Kraken. Within the damaged Hyperion reactor, which at any time threatened to explode.

"But not yet." He said quietly.

His telescopic vision revealed the Emerald Knight was no longer making progress away from the populated lands. Scott was engaged in a incredible battle. In that moment the man of Tomorrow saw the impossible was happening.

Diana's looked outwards concentrating her hunters eye on the distant distinctive green envelope of energy from the Green Lanterns ring. "The Kraken is changing, it must be magic, terrible old and powerful magic." She gasped.

Superman trusted her judgement.

He could see Alan Scott's power ring contained the magical metamorphosis, at least for now, but he wondered for how long? The creature that was being born from the adamant of this ancient boat, was already pushing back and deforming Green Lantern's energy envelope. The Man of Steel could see in Alan's face the supreme act of will needed to hold on, his brow was furrowed in concentration and dappled with sweat. Superman was compelled to help, to do something. Then just as he thought matters could get no worse a familiar statuesque figure flew from Citadel.

Queen Clea of the Ha-Mazon's, rose flying – but this time without a Pterodactyl mount. She cried out to them.

"Amazon thanks to your presence here in my land, and the Witchcraft of my Allies, I now have the mirror of your powers." The giant woman laughed, extending her hand beckoning and taunting Diana. "Perhaps you would grant me the pleasure of rematch Princess?"

-'S'-

"Gio, what's happening." The Star Spangled Kid asked pointing to the transformed Nazi's and lizards. The spry athlete had recovered his usual form. Zatara was glad of that. They'd need every kind of magic in this situation.

"I felt a great disturbance in the magic of the Lost Land. I fear something terrible has happened." Gio replied honestly. Fate was locked in a silent but brilliant battle with Ultra, worse the Red aura was creeping forward like wine seeping into a yellow cloth.

Sargon stepped forward. "The Heart Stone is no more. My Ruby of Life grieves for it. Clea has broken the Heart Stone of Atlantis."

"Seven Heavens above!" Gio gasped. He turned Pemberton. "That explains it." He found he was shaking in frustration. "That's why their was such a pulse of energy, it was an echo of god-wave, trapped in the Heart Stone."

"What does that mean?" The Atom asked. The diminutive pugilist had circled the huddled monsters, and joined them.

"It means my stout fellow that new gods walk the Earth." Jakob Fange announced. He gestured to the men with him, to those that had not changed to wild beasts. Each was hidden in a spectral mist. Fange said. "Here stands Rage and Fear."

From the darkness that seemed to cling to this man of bones like translucent flesh a large shadow swelled and dissipated.

A Nazi in red stood with another in yellow, the representative of Imperial Japan.

Gio didn't need preternatural sight to see the mirroring of the Crimson Avenger and Wing. They drew Luger Pistols from the sifting mist of magical genesis.

More shadows rose and fell. Fange continued. "Hells Bows - Stave and Twine." Two archers in black and grey Nazi colours stepped forward, and turned to face the Green Arrow and Speedy who had progressed from the Temple Entrance to flank the enemy.

"Meet the Abjure the Arab Adventurer." Fange said.

The tall man was dressed in middle eastern clothes, he had a whip and pistol.

Gio saw him search for the profile of the Vigilante in the shadows.

This was the magic's legacy. He saw it clearly. The deal between the Nazi's, the Annunki and the Ha-Mazon's, a spell of counter magic to create anti-heroes on the side of the Axis powers.

There was an explosion as the armoured form of Dugan as Stripes broke through the Temple floor, he staggered to his feet, his shining armour covered now in opaque dust. Crawling from the hole in the floor came the monstrous visage of the Crystal Skull.

Fange continued. "I will assume you have at least heard reports of my good friend, the Crystal Skull." He laughed

Zoltar Luthor said "You see Zatara, Sargon there is another Sorcerer greater than you and Doctor Fate combined – our Lord Wotan. Once the seal on the Lost Land of Atlantis was removed he sent his agents to this place by his magic."

"Why?" Zatara asked, as he readied himself for the fight.

"To ensure the blood of our chosen ones, and those of our allies the Ha-Mazons was poured upon the Heart Stone, to ensure each were granted powers and abilities as great as and if not greater than you Americans." Zoltar paused for effect. "That is why we lured you all here."

"You know what will happen?" Sargon gasped. "Now the Heart Stone is broken?"

"Yes!" Boomed the voice of Ultra. Red Lightning forked out from the Power Stone mounted on her fore head. The Red overtook the Gold. Each allied Magician was seized by the flaming forks in a red brilliance. "Yes I know." Ultra shouted. The Temple shook, air rushed in like a terrible wind, and then Ultra was gone. With her Doctor Fate, Zatara and Sargon.

There was silence as the remaining Seven Soldiers reflected on their circumstances, and their Nazi enemies gloated.

Oliver Queen broke the silence.

"Hate to break it to you fella, but I'm one hundred percent American man, no powers here beyond a love for freedom and Democracy – but you're welcome to duplicate those any where – any time." The Green Arrow called out from his hiding place behind one of the temples many fluted supporting columns.

The Crystal Skull laughed his wheezing cackle. Saying. "Yet I assure all the years you spent honing your mind and body capitalising on your nature with careful nurture, have in a heartbeat been granted to your opposite number among us. You were exceptional, now you are second rate. We are your superiors. We are the Seven Hounds of War! And we will kill you all."

-'S'-


	81. Chapter 81

1942 part 19

Terry Curtis exploited his altered physiology. As Cyclotron Curtis he was able to use the chaos of the allied merchant men's return through the portal to slip away. A driven man. His agenda was primal. This was his moment – his opportunity to save his daughter. Terri had his name, she was all he had left of his darling wife. The journey through the Portal from Los Angeles to Venturia had proved even more eventful than he could imagine. Given his life experience since meeting the former incarnation of the crippled god this was no mean feat.

Curtis had grown used to believing six impossible things before breakfast.

Terry had been coerced into the Ultra Humanite's service not once, but twice, and he been forced to work for the Lizard Luthor's death ray between times. It now took a great deal to surprise the man he had been forced to become.

However Cyclotron had been shocked by the accident, the coincidence that had seen two doorways on different coasts attempting to access the same portal. As a scientist co-opted into the Ultra Humanites research into super powers Curtis recognised that something of great importance had been revealed. Something about the potential the Heart Stone of Atlantis, a giant among power stones. He had no doubt the Ultra Humanite coveted it.

Yet he had no time to consider these questions now. Giving himself over to the search for Terri, Cyclotron's radiant form allowed him to move as luminescent radium coloured ghost. He crackled through the vaulted halls and winding conclaves of the tower-city. Sensitive to the wider spectrum of energy both present but invisible to human perception, and that radiated by his own infernal heart, Cyclotron was able to see so much more. The complex geography of the Venturian capital was visible to him, a three dimensional transparency. Overlaying this mental rendering were the distinctive energy signatures of the living, native to the Lost Land, and those who were recently arrived from the real world.

Finding a child of Earth was for Terry, a master of radiation, was like looking for a burning needle hidden in faux haystack made of glass stems.

Cyclotron descended to Terri's location. Adamant doors were no barrier to him, and metal melted where it met his glowing touch. Curtis entered and his green-white radiance flashing forward. His arrival forced the Venturian Warrior Guard to the floor, clutching their faces against his brightness. Terry felt guilt, he felt nauseous, the rank smell of singed hair, and the pinkness of the Ha-Mazon's skin was his doing, but it was necessary to cow these giants into submission.

Curtis swept the child into his arms. Then he felt the echo of the god-wave pass through him. He faltered and fell, his powers and consciousness were failing, but he was aware enough to see his daughter vanishing into the purple light that became all he could see, and then there was blackness.

-'S'-

Bart Regan had listened to the Dark Knight's concerns, and his words had rung true. "Why is Clea abandoning Ultra, and why is she letting us corner this Gate?" The Bat-Man had asked. Regan agreed, his gut told him something wasn't quite right. They had decided to give home, that was Los Angeles time to get ready for the enemy prisoners. Minutes here in Venturia should translate into hours on the other side of the Portal, Regan reflected. Ample time to make provision for the waiting crew of the Kraken, both Nazi and Lizard. Bart had decided his minutes this side of reality, were best spent taking another look around. The Spy had clambered up the Temple's stepped stone bleachers to gain perspective to see out through the windows where he sighted more of the vast towering Citadel. Regan had assumed any threat would come from without. He had been wrong. Within, men and women, both ally and enemy had fallen if struck down by some invisible malady.

Bart watched the Bat-Man bundle Sally and the girls away from the portal. He crouched hidden in the shadow of an immense fluted pillar, watching the impossible. Men became beasts, and the Lizards something even more monstrous. Regan saw the magicians vanish, Doctor Fate, Zatara, and Sargon. They had disappeared in the red fire from the Ultra Humanite's Power Stone, along with the faux woman, whisked away in some god-awful wind. In an instant the captive had become the captor.

Bart slipped down from his hiding place. Thankful he was still human, even so inhuman might have helped - the tall steps had been cut for the long legged Ha-Mazon's and encircled the Portal and Alter. An amphitheatredivided by the central aisle. Two semi circles enclosing the ornate iron doors between worlds, the shortened circle interrupted by the giant statue of Ares. Regan moved with practised stealth, quiet and steady. Right now the bony thing that had been the Nazi Captain Jakob Fange was pontificating like a mad ring master in a bizarre circus show. Backing away from the mists that seemed to cling to the bony man and his companions was a young man in black, he staggered towards Regan's side of the Temple. Creatures, both wolf-like, and dinosaur hurried away, dividing their number. The Nazi soldier seemed confused, as his changed comrades pushed past him, jostling the lone human soldier remaining. The youth was agitated, Regan thought perhaps disturbed by what had happened to his comrades. Bart slid downwards and crouched watching. The Nazi cursed. It was anger. Regan heard his rant in German. "I should be something more than this. How am I different?"

The Spy concluded this man had expected to be changed in some way, yet he had been disappointed.

Fire exploded in the heart of the self proclaimed Hounds of War, as bolts from the Green and Red Arrows, Aurian weapons fell into the midst of the Nazi's. From the Hells Bows came a fiery answer.

The temple shook as the Crystal Skull wrestled with the armoured figure of Pat Dugan. The glassy visage of the Nazi super-man shone in the unnatural fire from the flaming bolts, and sparks rained outwards as he pushed Stripes's Armour across the stone floor, then faster than Regan human eyes could follow the situation was reversed. Dugan was on top and hot plasma burned the Nazi uniform as his fore-arm weapons discharged. He blinked the situation reversed, and reversed again, stone was chipped, masonry fell as the two fought on, like a conjoined wrecking ball.

With Bones stood two Lycanthropes and a pair of Lizards, and for a moment there was the Star Spangled Kid. Then he struck, a blur of action and movement. His athletic fighting style was like aerialist without the wires. Jakob Fange for his part was like a skeletal pied piper, conducting the beasts who acted at his beck and call, responding to his whistling song like herding dogs a shepherd. While the older Nazi stood back, he was fighting through the monsters. Pemberton's speed and agility was his advantage, but the wolfmen, and the Lizards had both aplenty. Again the fight was happening so fast it made Regan's head hurt. To be human here is to be like a toddler watching adults run, he thought. Gunfire too, Regan couldn't see the shooters, he guessed it was the Avengers and their opposition, Fear and Rage. Across the Temple he saw the Vigilante in a fist fight with the burly Arab titled Abjure. Regan was not a man to shirk his duty, a mere human the Spy might be, but he leapt into the fight, his target was human too, the lone frustrated soldier below. Falling upon him Bart drove the youth to the stone floor, his fore arm pressed to his throat, his knee solid into his midsection, and his free hand he drove into the nerve bunch in his shoulder.

"Tell me what is going on." Regan demanded in German.

The Nazi spat into his face. "You, am I supposed to be you." He laughed. "We are more than you see American, the Holmgang comes for your friends."

-'S'-

Superman accelerated as the god-wave's echo resounded through the metal of the Kraken, like some strange bell, ringing a terrible peel of doom.

Recovered Diana wrestled with the newly empowered Antlantean Queen in the sky above the Venturian Citadel.

The Man of Steel snapped across the crystal blue sea, his progress announced by a fearful froth of water, wave and spray and cracking roar of thunder, his own sound wave and wash, followed him across the waters.

The reverberating pulse of power within the resonant body of the golden Kraken rocked the Green Lantern. Alan Scott faltered. Superman came to his side as the Lantern fell back into the Man of Tomorrow, his grip on the Kraken was broken, and broken was the Kraken. The gilded carapace cracked open on it's underside like a egg. Like a seed growing a root.

Superman speedily assessed his friends vitals, Alan showed signs of great exertion, he was beyond tired, exhausted, but unharmed. Breathing deep his heart pounded, Superman watched the Green Lantern will himself to stay conscious, to remain in command of his emerald energy.

Superman observed the Kraken – the vast submarine released from the Green Lantern's grasp now became so much more. From within the carapace of adamant the living interior grown for purpose by the Annunki's strange science, grew at an impossibly accelerated rate. From the ovoid shape of the submarine sprouted first a tendril like root, that expanded like billowing smoke, but pink and fleshy. Wings unfolded from it's back, four vast sails to beat the air. Four arms sprouted beneath them, and a long whip like tail from the serpentine belly. It's crown was the golden Kraken's simple and elegant shape, and from this tentacles unfolded like Medusa's locks. Almost as if a dragon had taken a cuttlefish helm, or perhaps the crown of an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh had sprouted the arms of an octopus, for under the golden metal of what had been the Kraken the pink purple snake like arms rose revealing a face. If the women of lost Atlantis were called giants, this creature of metal and stone like shell, could only be a Titan. She towered taller than the tallest building of men. The Kraken had been submarine battleship, a vessel on the scale of the great boats like the Iowa Class. Here this boat was but a helm to be worn by this colossus. In golden adamant the features Superman beheld were very familiar. It could have been Lois, Dee Dee, or Sally, but the eyes – those evil blazing eyes, there was only one person on any Earth who could possess them, Ultra!

-'S'-

Carter Hall struck the Venturian Pterosaur with his mace while his booted foot struck the Ha-Mazon Knight in the chest. The second wave of Clea's forces had come as a surprise, in the midst of battle there was little time to think what this slight of hand from the enemy might mean. With them fought the vast flying fox-bat riding Aurian's. Then beyond the Citadel the Winged Warrior sighted the emergent Titan. His senses amplified by the pervasive effect of Nth metal saw that his colleagues, the Mighty Man of Steel and the Emerald Warrior were like gnats before this living sky-scraper with the face of a woman.

Shiera's shout caught his attention, and his wings dipped, and the Hawk Man soared, twisting around the wall of flame that burned across the sky. Science had no part in the horror he witnessed before him. If a woman could lay with a dragon what Carter saw was the impossible spawn of such an union. From his right fell another. Two of the monsters. He breathed the acrid air, the smell of his own hair singed in the heat, and in that moment reassessed. This was certainly magic of that he was certain, but what he actually saw was in truth as much a chimera as he or Shiera. A mistake many made when the Hawks came to them. Long hair, like that of a woman, adorned the head of these harpys, while leathery wings beat the sky like the pterosaurs. These hung from the backs of Hamazon's who possessed claws on hands and feet. Gloves and boots fixed with blades, weapons made of adamant worn by these winged warriors. Their classically beautiful faces remained, half hidden beneath dragon helms fashioned around their heads. Just as his and Shiera's were hidden by their Hawk derived masks.

Cater Hall recognised the mimicry. These winged Ha-Mazon were copies after a fashion of Shier and himself. Of Hawk Girl and Hawk Man.

There were differences. Fire poured from these women's lips. Yet this was no circus act. This was magic, older and more astounding than the Priests of Pharaoh who cast their rods to the ground to reveal serpents to the awed court of the god-king, a magical answer to the challenge set by Moses. Carter saw that these winged Ha-Mazon had been created to answer Hawk Man and Hawk Girl.

Fire from their lips washed over his shield and that of his wife. Carter Hall had Nth Metal's energies to bolster and deflect the heat of this assault, letting the fire serve him Hawk Man rode on the thermal wash, like paper rising from the flames, he fell upon his attacker bringing his mace to bear, crackling with energies channelled from the Nth Metal harness he wore. Shiera dived through the flames of the second attacker's fiery breath, her shield held out in front of her, its protruding boss slamming into the pursed lips of the Ha-Mazon Dragon Girl.

Carter saw that Starman was also being attacked by a new and more powerful adversary. On the wind the sound of her voice carried, the accent was of Atlantis but the words were in English. "Starman, Celesta's Music of the Spheres will overcome you!" With this a sound beyond the realms of human understanding played, a haunting melody at the edges of even his Nth metal enhanced perception. Above him the sound from Celesta crashed into the cosmic rod wielding Knight of Star Light. Starman was pushed backwards, thrust into the stone of the citadel like a human wrecking ball.

-'S'-

The Atom awoke. He was dizzy, disorientated. He could remember the strange sensation of being knocked off his feet by an invisible hand. Now he felt alert, as if he'd been knocking back coffee hard. Awake, alert, he was buzzing. His hands were tingling, luminescent even without him bunching them into fists.

The room was dark, there was an absence of light, save for the strange luminescence from each man present. The Atom first saw the radium green glow of Cyclotron, in his arms was a child.

There was a more subtle purple glow directly ahead of him.

His last memory was of the Temple of Ares. A flash of angry red from the Power Stone worn by the women called Ultra.

"Slam?" He gasped at first disbelieving. Al looked at the big man he knew so well. "I thought.."

"I'd bought it?" Bradley emerged from the shadows. He smiled, his purple cloak shimmered like it were woven from threads of indigo light. "Yeah so did I." Slam agreed his broad smile was reassuring, but his eyes burned even more brightly than his cloak, deep purple pools, this was not familiar.

"It's me." Slam said. "C'mon Shorty."

Moving past the man who claimed to be Bradley, Al looked at the babe in Cyclotron's arms.

"It's Terri." Curtis told him.

In the green-white light from Cyclotron, the Atom could see a nasty bruise on the child's arm, the tell tale mark of a needle, he knew someone had drawn blood from the infant. He wondered why, then he recalled Doctor Fate's words.

"Ultra knows your child's blood is the key that will release the Great Heart of Atlantis to him."

Al reflected on his own changed condition. A man of science Pratt knew there were forces beyond the rational understanding of man at work, released by the breaking of the magical Heart Stone of Atlantis.

"That dame, Carlisle - you remember?" He said to the big man.

"Yeah the one who pulled me out of a good fight." Bradley laughed.

"What she want you do?" Al asked.

"Look after her valuable poodle-dog." Slam said.

It was the right answer, it just lacked colour. Al expected a least a damn or worse when he reminded his friend of Rita Carlisle."

"Good things come out of the damnedest events Shorty." Slam said. "Take this guy here. Love will drive a man to his limits, and beyond them."

"Where there's trouble – there's a dame."

"It's never that simple."

Al frowned.

"Look Shorty you're not the only one who has been changed." Slam told him. "I've always had the capacity to understand the other guy or gal's way of thinking. Hell it's what made me a damn good PI." He shrugged. "Granted I've not made a habit of talking about feelings, doesn't mean I didn't understand what made gals and guys tick. That's how I broke my cases fella – by imagining walking a mile in their shoes."

Slam pointed to Cycloton. "This one has done things I can't approve of, but Al, I understand why he did it."

"Okay." The Atom said. He folded his arms, and glowed pink-red from his hands and forearms. "Just where are we?"

"We're in the deepest part of the Citadel." Slam replied. "So deep it's forgotten, I don't think anyone has been here in centuries."

"Why?"

"I need you to take a message to the Bat-Man. He needs to get everyone he can together, ready to take back the Temple of Ares."

"Okay." The Atom said. "But what about you?"

Bradley shrugged. "Oh I've some investigating to do. The real player has yet to appear, and when he does I've got to be sure everyone is in the right place."

-'S'-

Robot Man followed the liberated Americans together with the raiding party from Auria, the men made their way up through the wide ramped thoroughfares ever climbing to the Citadel's heart, the Temple of Ares, and the Portal, their way home. Bob Crane reflected on his changed circumstances, at first there had been the exhilaration of the unknown, and to some extent that childlike wonder persisted. Now with the heat of battle behind them, the Man of Metal found himself reflecting on his condition, he thought of Joan, his fiancé, and their quarrelsome parting. In his memory he could still feel the sting of her hand, and the harshness of her words.

"Bob, it's not that you've completely forgotten about our date – yet again, it's not the theatre I miss, it's you.

"Marriage Bob? You're married to your work. All this talk of robots, I'd swear you are a tin-man Robert Crane, you've no heart, I tell you, no heart. You might as well be made of steel."

Rising from his knees the man machine knew something had happened. His eyes searched ahead, telescoping lenses brought the far flung levels of the Citadel closer.

"Are you okay." Chuck asked.

"Fine." Crane told his partner in science. "Something affected my circuits for a moment."

"What.."

"Am I doing?" Crane interrupted completing the question. "I'm watching a fight."

Grayson followed the metal fingers direction. Robot Man knew the human eye could not process the images his newly acquired cybernetic circuits could. The evidence of the conflict was however left behind. Broken glass, doors once closed appeared instantly open. Dust swirled, then Johnny Quick appeared sliding along the ground on his back. On top of him a Black Clad figure, his jumpsuit was adorned with a red arm band with the black on white Swastika of the Third Reich, not that this was visible to Grayson either, for his arms were but a blur of punches aimed at downed Quick. The Nazi laughed.

Grayson heard him call. "Die Wütenden!" Chuck translated, gasping."The Furious?"

Robot Man accelerated towards the Nazi. A sword impacted his steel like hide. Appearing beside him was a Ha-Mazon. She struck with greatly accelerated movements, saying to the Nazi. "I am here Cockatrice."

Robot Man decided this Venturian had to be Furious. Like Cockatrice, the Nazi, both were speedsters like the Flash and Jonny Quick.

There was no time to compute how this could have happened. The facts on the ground were this, they were here. Robot Man used all of his artificially amplified speed to grab Furious, seizing her around her waist, his steel like arms closing in a vice like grip. Robot man sensed the feet of Flash make contact with his hard Hi-Tap exterior. The Scarlet Speedster rode up his back hitting the big warrior called Furious with his metal helmet, at speed, again and again, so rapidly it sounded out like a machine gun. Bob Crane felt the Ha-Mazon body go limp, and his mighty mechanical frame hurled her at the Nazi Speedster who had Johnny Quick on the ground. The man in black lurched sideways as the much larger body hurtled by, his speed saved him from being caught by the flying Ha-Mazon, but that split second was long enough for Johnny. Quick recovered, he landed a solid punch onto the others jaw. Hard and fast, and the Nazi Speedster fell back unconscious.

-'S'-

Rex Tyler hung back, hidden in shadow, perched on a ledge watching. He hugged the stone wall as below he saw the Atom disappear in a purple flash. Then Darkness filled the chamber. Hour Man recognised Doctor Mid-Nite hand in this. Above him was the statue of Ares. Hour man bided his time as he listened to the one called Jackob Fange. Magically transformed into a living skeleton as he introduced his fearsome colleagues, the Hounds of War. Around them the Lizards and Lycanthropes growled and howled. Some of their number scuttled away from the Hounds of War, obeying their skeletal masters whistles. Their claws grated on the polished stone as they skipped and bounded to the artificial night of Dr Mid Nite. It was a pursuit. Rex had seen the Bat-Man, Mercy, and Robin whisk away the women. They had run down the steps beneath his hiding place. Across the Temple Rex Tyler caught sight of Bart Regan making his descent back to the main arena.

Moments before the Hour Man had stepped away from the Portal. Much like the Spy, Tyler had wanted to look around. No excuse but curiosity, this impetuous adventuring now gained him precious moments to observe and ponder. Meanwhile the Allied Merchantmen had walked through the Portal to Los Angeles and safety. The Captive Sailors, Nazi's and Lizards together stood ready to follow them, their war was over – or so he had believed. Then something strange had occurred, and all bets were suddenly off. Ultra's Power Stone had flashed it's red lightning. Rex had found his way out onto this shadowy ledge above the steps out of the Temple to gain a better view of the events unfolding around the Portal.

That was then. This was now. The Seven Hounds of War stood in direct opposition to the Soldiers of Victory. Rex's hand dropped to his belt, his mouth was dry, and his body betrayed him trembling in anticipation.

Descending from the Temple, directly below him crept the pack of rabid werewolf like beasts, and with them man sized dinosaurs with terrible claws. This tipped the balance for Rex Tyler, and with one hand he drew the tablet of Miraclo, the drug he had invented, and pressed the pill to his lips, immediately the compound reacted with his saliva, fizzed in his mouth, tickling his throat as he swallowed. The other hand turned over the hourglass he wore around his neck, the sand began to slowly trickle down. His body reacted to the compound. He alone seemed able to metabolise this chemical cocktail. Rex Tyler was unique because for sixty minutes, as long as the hit lasted, Hour Man was now a super-man. Senses heightened, strength amplified, he fell behind the pack of beasts.

The darkness was his friend. It blinded the enemy. Rex knew Batman, Mercy and the Boy Wonder, kept the girls Lane, Norris and De Winters moving. Mid-Nite's artificial night meant he couldn't see them, but Rex could hear his colleagues. Thanks to Miraclo he could pick out their distinct sounds from amongst the racket of claws, howls and shrieks. Then came a burst of Light. Colourless the world became black and white as Mid-Nite's darkness was attacked by the yellow glow from the woman who now appeared – by magic – he realised. Her back was turned against him, facing the retreating Americans in the midst of the monsters. Her white robes billowed and were edged with red, a great Swastika was printed on the back of her sail like dress. Tyler leapt upwards repelling from ceiling he swung through shadows to overlook the scene. She was not of this pocket universe, but Earth, her blonde hair burned yellow like the sun, making her pale skin seem all the whiter, and the red colour of her painted lips all the brighter.

She held a staff curling and twisted blackened wood, mounted at the head was a glowing yellow stone – was this another kind of Power Stone, the Hour Man wondered. Worse she was not alone. Her yellow brightness dimmed revealing the others, her companions.

"Herr Doctor Mid-Nite. It appears we are at an impasse." She said as Hour Man pressed himself into the corner of the chamber, his strength held him up hands resting on the opposing walls.

Tyler watched as his fellow Justice Battalion agent reached for another grenade. Hour Man knew that Mid-Nite's supply of the small glass spheres had to be finite, just as his time as a superhero was limited. He was anxious to act. Hepped up on this power kick he reminded himself, breathing slowly he willed himself to be patient.

"Who are you?" Doctor Charles McNider asked the shining blonde woman.

"Why I'm your opposite number. The Noon Witch."

"Why Laura Vogel. Or should I say Bertha Holde." Lois Lane shouted across the strange grey world of yellow light versus Mid-Nite darkness.

"Oh I remember you too Lois Lane, you've come a long way since France. I see you learned of me from Superman, don't you ever feel guilty that your reputation is built on the Metropolis Marvel spoon feeding you exclusives?"

"Look who's talking." Lane growled. "Zoltar's flunky."

Rex saw the stern set of the Bat-Man's Jaw as he dragged the girl reporter back, and behind him. Mercy stepped forward, Robin fell into a crouch.

From out of the blinding brightness emerged the indistinct figures.

The darkness and brightness both waned, colour crept back into the world, and so these companions of the Witch became visible.

"Let me introduce my other friends." Holde pointed to a large man stepping forward. "This is Knights Bane. The Iron Knight of Third Reich."

His lip curled into a snarl. "Hiel Hitler." He snapped with mouth and extended arm.

Then Bertha gestured to an even bigger man. "This is Cuckcoo." He grew up in America, but his loyalties lie with the Fuhrer. "Ladies." The accent was warm, and mid-western. The big man let a smile cross his face below his half mask. He wore the grey colour of the Reich's infantryman. His eyes twinkled madly. Hour-Man noted he looked like three hundred pounds of hard muscle.

"I was supposed to crush the puny Atom – however it seems I have been given the mind of a circus performer, and strangely a memory too. I see falling trapeze artists, the sound of their bodies breaking on the sand of the ring echoes in my mind." Cuckcoo said as if he were but passing the time of day, adding a gentle laugh.

The Bat-Man extended his hand, Robin pushed against him, his young face twisted in rage. "Not now boy." He said.

Bertha Holde laughed too. "And joining us from Venturia, the beautiful Torment." The Ha-Mazon was taller than Cuckcoo, but had the elegant frame of a dancer. "Also my compatriots Agent Provocateur and Mimic."

Of the two women the first was channelling Mata Hari. The second remained indistinct as if clothed in shadow. Even Hour-Man's enhanced senses could not discern her features. "Lastly from the land of the rising sun an ally has taken the place of the Atom, forgive us Cuckcoo, Magic wants to be unpredictable. I give you..." She looked into the shadows. A figure emerged and said. "Ninja." The man wore black. He bowed.

The Noon Witch smiled. "As good a name as any."

The Bat-Man growled defiant. "This grandstanding isn't at all interesting. Are these people meant to be in some way our doppelgängers?"

"Ever logical Detective. No. Not meant. They are. They have your skills in addition to whatever abilities they possessed already."

The Dark Knight let his cloak fall around him. He pursed his lips. "Then this was always the game. To lure us here to replicate the Justice Battalions powers and skills?"

"Of course." Bertha Holde laughed. "By some accident of fortune the United States seems to possess a disproportionate number of meta-humans. It was our Lord Wotan's intention to use the power of the Heart Stone of Atlantis to rectify this situation."

"Now that is Interesting." The Bat-Man answered, in that moment his hand appeared from his belt and into the air. Smoke whispered forward, interrupting the Noon Witch's yellow light as a dark cloud before the power of searchlight. Mid-Nite added to this with another burst of Darkness. Figures moved in the confusion to face each other. There was the sound of gunfire, of fist against muscle.

-'S'-

Gio Zatara found himself in a crater. Sargon lay beside him, Doctor Fate had risen to one knee, his eyes burned golden and bright with incandescent rage. Around them was the Heart Stone. Cracked open, and broken in two. The once verdant depression reclaimed over the centuries by nature had been burned into a black blasted wasteland. Dirt and rocks had been expelled from around the vast crystal and now the full breadth of the Heart Stone was revealed. Zatara could see the fire deep within, burning now in two halves, the chasm betwixt the two disappeared deep into the earth.

Zatara looked across the gap. On the other side, and within the other half was the iron golem of Ultra. It stood as a statue devoid of even the semblance of life. The ghost of the crippled god had left this vessel for another. Beyond this lifeless golem stood three other men, by their stature and dress, they were Venturian's.

Zatara took Fate's hand and rose to his feet. Picking up his Hat as he did so. Sargon followed wearily rising from his knees. "We are within the Heart Stone?"

"That was the spell cast by the Ultra Humanite." Fate said. "To trap us, and take our magic out of the game."

"This can only mean one thing." Sargon said. "We are to be sacrificed."

"Our Atlantean blood, Homo Magi heritage can be used break the Heart Stone again." Gio agreed.

"Seven Times. The first cut, will be followed by three of them," Fate said looking to the entrapped Venturians, "and us." He noted.

"For the seven colours of the magical spectrum." Sargon observed. "Blood magic, powerful and dark, blood of a babe, blood of three from home, three from abroad."

"And a blade that cannot be blunted, that can cut the hardest of stones." Fate added. He looked upwards to where the Trident of Posideon had struck the face of the Heart Stone.

"The Nazi's, and the Venturians mean to mine the Heart Stone." Gio concluded. "To reduce it to it's constituent seven elements, smash it into enough Power Stone to enchant a Magic Army."

"How long do we have?" Sargon asked.

Gio knew what he meant. The legends were clear, if the Heart Stone was broken, there was one inevitable consequence.

Sargon asked. "How long before this universe collapses back into the real world – can you see it Fate?"

Doctor Fate reached out with his fingers, as if for some invisible hands to grasp. His eyes burned bright within their translucent prison.

Fate said after a moment of silence. "I see the lost continent of Atlantis travels even now to the real world.

"Atlantis will rise from the Atlantic once more, once again Atlantis is an Island.

"It is base for Hitler sat between the old and the new world. Arising a wall between the allies, cutting off Europe from America's industry, allowing the Luftwaffe to fly from Atlantis's western shores, to bomb New York, Metropolis, Washington DC."

"This future can't come to pass." Zatara slammed his fist into the palm of his hand.

"How can we stop it." Sargon asked. "We're stuck here – collectively we can't overcome the power of the Heart Stone?"

"You're forgetting we have an ace in our hand." Zatara replied, spreading a fan of cards from his fingers by way of illustration.

"This is no time for parlour tricks old friend." Sargon chided. "What do you mean?"

"Superman is not of this Earth, his powers can't be duplicated by magic, even if Ultra has - for the Nazi's and Clea - managed to duplicate every allied hero in Venturia,.."

"Yes." Sargon agreed. "That's far from certain, magic especially old magic is hard to control, Granted Gio, but what of it?"

"John don't you see, they'll still be one Superman down."

Fate pointed to the distance. "I fear Ultra has accounted for Superman. In addition to the blood of Terri Curtis, and that of the Nazi's chosen recipients of magic power, our enemy poured the vital fluid of the Annunki's living fortress within the Kraken onto the Heart Stone too. When the Trident of Posideon struck the bloodied crystal the power of the god-wave was channelled not only into men and women, of Earth and Venturia, changing them all, but also into the flesh of the Annunki's living fortress."

Gio looked out of the crystal walls of the Heart Stone. Sargon saw it too, the blood drained from his face. Gio saw in the distance the newly created Titan from the Kraken's seed. He saw the tentacles like Medusa's snakes writhe around the stolen features of Ultra crowned in the gold of the Kraken, mounted on the serpentine body of a monstrous dragon.

They had been so concerned with their own predicament, they had not grasped the full extent of Ultra and Clea's compact with the Nazi's, empower an army, raise Atlantis, and release this monster.

Gio whispered a curse. "Cavalo!"


	82. Chapter 82

1942 part 20

"The Holmgang?" Regan asked. "What in God's name is that?" The Nazi in the Spy's strong hands struggled vainly. Regan noticed that blood was oozing from a deep cut on his captive's arm. The well tailored SS uniform was ripped in places, Regan knew this wasn't his doing. Clearly this man was no common soldier, his officer credentials were obvious. His captive however seemed strangely complacent, his protestation more about playing out a role, while remaining confident in defeat. Bart didn't like it. He didn't like this scrap much either. Why he wondered, was the enemy attacking his people one on one? Albeit super against super. Why hadn't legions of Ha-Mazon's from the Citadel joined the battle? Surely there was some kind of militia or police in the tower city of Venturia. Frankly non of it seemed quite right to him.

"C'mon Klaus. The Holmgang – what do you mean?"

"Every one of your people here in Venturia with special abilities has been duplicated though occult science." The young SS man laughed, his hand gestured to the central space of the Temple of Ares, and beyond the wide processional aisle. The shrine to the god of war had become a place of battle. The Seven Dogs of War fought with the Seven Soldiers of Victory. The Nazi soldier said in a angry whisper, his throat still constricted by Regan's arm pressing down his body weight on the flattened man. "You Americans have your Justice Battalion. The Third Reich has created the Holmgang."

"These monsters?" Regan thought of the Lycanthropes and the Raptors.

The Nazi laughed. "No." His face took on the wide eyed defiance of the fanatic. "There were more volunteers chosen than Americans in your Justice Battalion. Lord Wotan had to be sure. We understood the risk. We would still be serving the Fuhrur."

Regan frowned. Could it be true. Had the Annunki's Kraken being tasked to bring chosen volunteers to Atlantis so they could create an answer to America's Super Powered Heroes? If so this had all been an elaborate trap.

"Really." Regan brought up his bloodied fingers to the SS man's face. "This is yours Klaus – it was one of those monsters – wasn't it? I can see another body, one of your boys, out there cut down, ripped up. No wonder you were running."

For the first time Regan saw fear and uncertainty in the younger man's face. He wondered what had happened under the cover of the earlier mysterious mist, that had shrouded the metamorphosis of the Axis agents.

Klaus gasped. "I should have changed into something – so should he." The Nazi spoke so quietly Regan barely heard him. He guessed he spoke of the man who had died at the hand of former brothers in arms now monsters.

"You look human enough?" Bart observed.

"Like I said." Klaus sneered. "Maybe I'm meant to be you."

Regan frowned again, thinking, could it really be that the Nazi's have meant to duplicate my skill set too?

"The glorious agents of the Third Reich and our allies will defeat their appointed targets – man on man, and so we will be victorious." The fanatic told him. "And those who have gained the powers and skills of any others like you will find..."

Suddenly his bravado failed him. Klaus's words stuck in his throat. Regan understood now. Some agents had been allocated predetermined targets, the rest seemed to take whatever skills or powers came, even if that meant becoming a monster.

"Your orders are to find your opposite number and kill them – is that it?" Regan pressed. "You're not doing very well, are you." Regan shook the Nazi to drive home his point.

"Maybe you're not mine – maybe I'm not you." Was the best response Klaus could muster. He added with defiance. "The others will succeed, man on man, and so we will be victorious"

Regan saw this statement for what it was. Faith, a belief in the Nazi's new religion. "Is that it?" Bart demanded, grasping at the truth. "This man on man fighting - it's all part of an enchantment?" Regan hated magic. He shook the Nazi again.

"Yes." Klaus replied. He confirmed Regan's worse fears. "Like dye is fixed in cloth by salt, so the blood of our enemies must be shed to ensure our agents abilities remain both strong and permanent."

Regan spat. "Blood Magic." The reason the Axis and the Ha-Mazon's were fighting the Allies one on one, it was all down to magic. Regan hated magic.

"We will be Vic.."

Bart's fist silenced the Nazi before he could finish speaking. "You won't." He spat.

-'S'-

Superman's powers granted the Man of Tomorrow various unusual perspectives of life. A few that had shared his lofty vantage point above the world, might say how small the people below looked so far below, how like ants they were. Indeed the renowned science author Hubert S Fine had compared his incredible strength to that of a insect, be it the ant carrying many times it's own weight, or the flea leaping relatively vast heights, but Superman had never himself felt like an insect, not at least until this moment. The eight limbed Kraken had become a Dragon. It flew on four wings like an insect, lashed out with four clawed legs or were they arms, and did the right description matter? Not when all Superman saw were talons grabbing for him, equally deadly and equally gigantic.

Was this beast, or insect, or arachnid? It had an exoskeleton of armour, of orange gold and the arms of an octopus, leather wings like Pterodactyl, but arranged as dragon fly, and above the face of a woman, a nest of tentacles writhed from beneath the golden ovoid headpiece. A breasted serpentine orange body glistened, striped in colour between copper and gold. Ending in whip like tail.

It was a nightmare made real.

"I am beyond human." The voice of Ultra crowed as the beast wings swept it forward towards the Tower-city, towards Venturia.

"Behold Superman the Typhon." Ultra's voice spoked from the purloined face of Dolores De Winters rendered large than the Presidents on Mount Rushmore.

"It took Zeus at his most powerful to bind this beast, now I – the Ultra Humanite have recreated it, and bound it to my will."

Superman had seen it to be the true. The ghost of Hepheastus bitterness and bile had lived on, and now that personality possessed the creature of science and magic before him. The Man of Tomorrow had no idea as yet, as to what Ultra's ultimate plan was, but he felt compelled to act – to try and stop the monster from going any where. Yet Superman found he was as effectual as a fly to a man. The Typhons vast limbs, wings and arms thrashed trying to swat him.

Ultra laughed. "I will shatter the Heart Stone, and raise an army of Power Stone equipped Soldiers, I will construct countless death ray machines."

The Man of Tomorrow knew his enemy was taunting him, but at least he considered in the split seconds between blows, I have an idea what Ultra aims to do.

Superman was determined to stop the Typhon's advance.

Valiantly he drove into the beast, as tiny dart against stone, his great strength helpless against the magical carapace of the legendary chimera reborn.

"I am as resilient as the hide of the infamous Aegis Goat also slain by Zeus at the height of his powers." Ultra boasted. "The reborn Typhon has the strength as mighty as the fabled Atlas - commensurate with a Titan's size."

With all his great powers he was as a gnat before this embodiment of the Ultra Humanite's insatiable lust for power.

Superman tried again and again, his heat vision tore across the face and body of the beast, but again its magical constitution granted it immunity to his sun given power of fire.

"I could bathe in caldera of a volcano." Ultra taunted him.

Superman tried to strike once again, his fists drove chest of the beast, time and again, and it was with grim eventuality that the Kraken-Dragon Chimera finally made contact with the speck that was the Man of Steel.

Superman was driven into the water below. As the blue engulfed him the Man of Tomorrow hoped he had gained enough time for Alan Scott to recover from the incapacitating effects of the god-wave echoe. For this was a creature of Magic, and it would take Magic to bind it.

-'S'-

The Sandman edged down dark corridors, effective alley ways in the convoluted geography of the Tower-City. Ostensibly he had stepped away from the Portal to test the security of the Temple, to guard against expected counter attack from the local population. Identifying and securing entry points into the cavernous place of worship was basic tactics. Wesley Dodds did not have the speed of the Flash or that of Johnny Quick. They were already deep within the Citadel seeking out the slave pits where the missing crew from the Sea Tiger had been taken. However the Sandman's night time memories now led him. Like many a dream the concealed passage he had seen in his sleep had existed in isolation, and the dreams details only became relevant as Dodd's came across this crypt beneath the great statue of Ares.

The Sandman had recognised this hidden doorway. Unconscious in the hands of the Lizard Luthor, dragged to Los Angeles through a reanimated Atlantean Portal, the Sandman had dreamt of many different places, and this was one of them. The Sandman could not blame the Speedsters for missing this entrance. Depressing the carved figure of fighting Ha-Mazon in the raised stone relief, just as he had in his dream. As expected the carved wall swung away from him.

Beyond was a complex of rooms – houses after a fashion, arranged either side of a narrow street in the sky. It was home to a concealed force.

As he crept forward his dreams meaning became clearer. There had been men and women; there had been Triton-Annunki reptiles, soldiers from both Earth and Venturia waiting excitedly for the promise of power. This was the compact between the Axis and Clea.

The Sandman found the chamber he sought at the end of this descending passage. Within the stench of burned hair was strong even through his mask. He was forced to ignore the plight fallen Venturian Warriors. Creeping by in the shadows. The nightmare come true for them was over, as the beasts, red in tooth and claw, shaggy baying dogs, and slick shiny lizards fed on these dead.

The Sandman slipped by.

All the while Dodds was haunted by another dream image. His head ached with the pressure of the memory. That of the witch hag of fairytale dancing on a vast shining diamond, twirling in a mad chant, in a rain of red blood. This premonition had made little sense to him, until now. It was blood magic that had transformed these strategically placed squads of soldiers some human, some Ha-Mazon, some Lizard – these were the waiting chosen. The Kraken's crew above in the Shrine, and the Ha-Mazon's below in this chamber. Some had been visited with fabulous powers to others had come a monstrous fate.

The Sandman was able to make sense of his visions, and his prescience guided him through the shadows. Dodd's was sure that hiding in one of these apartments waited the player on the other side. The Ha-Mazon who had been gifted the Sandman's abilities.

He had dreamt of her. The confused Venturian Warrior was hiding from the Lycanthropes. Wincing at the animal sounds of feasting. She was unchanged, or so she thought, and afraid, because she didn't understand.

How can you? Wesley Dodd's reflected, thinking I barely understand myself. The Sandman's dreams were his advantage, one which he now used. Purple gas whirled around the tall Venturian, her scream silenced by the constriction of his throat. The Ha-Mazon collapsed and Wesley Dodds, quickly bound and gagged her.

"Now you will sleep and perhaps dream" Wesley whispered "dream of defeat, dream of the victory of truth and justice.".

Leaving the room the Sandman stopped only to secure the door, sealing his captive from these monsters, trapping them in this hidden corner of the Citadel. Now free to run his bespoke leather shoes barely made a sound on the stone walkway as he sprinted away. His mind alive with the ever present sense of Deja-vu that haunted his waking hours, for he remembered dreaming this too. He new the nightmare was far from over, there were more monsters waiting for him, and some of them were beautiful.

-'S'-

Diana wrestled with Clea high above the Citadel. The giant Ha-Mazon now matched her strength, she had the power of flight. "I don't need the Trident of Poseidon to defeat you little one." Clea cried. "I have all your strength – added to my own!

"And when I have done with you, I'll make slaves of your people, to glory of my Father Ares."

Diana blocked the incoming punch, Clea's reach was problem. She was a giant and her long limbs moved with deadly accuracy. Diana found herself within them, she clenched the Queen of Venturia in a wrestler's hug.

Clea spat into her ear. "The barriers between our worlds are breaking down, Atlantis is returning to it's rightful place in your world. Once we are returned to the Earth, we will bring war to the soil of every nation to the glory of Ares."

Diana didn't need the lasso of truth, she believed the Hamazon meant it. She head butted the Queen breaking free then growled. "This was all a game to steal our powers."

Clea laughed. It was a celebratory sound, she hovered in the air already satisfied of her victory, watching her. Wonder Woman felt blood drip from her nose across her swollen lip. As she wiped her hand across her face Diana reflected she had seen the desire for super abilities in the likes of Jacob Fange through the magic of her lariat, but thought it little more than jealous lust – a fantasy. She remonstrated with herself for ignoring this desire burning in the hearts of the Nazi and his hand picked followers. Axis agents had been chosen for a reason. Diana had not seen the secret of Ultra and Clea's compact with the Third Reich. She was angry with herself for not asking the right questions, but Fange's mind had been so dark, so hideous, she had gladly let him go, she had wanted to be free of the Nazi's lusts. She had let go to soon. "I should have guessed you would risk everything and everyone in Lost Atlantis in your quest for power." Wonder Woman shouted.

Clea smiled even as she answered with a kick.

Diana danced away, but only just. Her golden Lariat fell to hand and lashed out around the Queen's wrist.

Clea laughed wrenching Diana to her. For a moment they tugged at the unbreakable line.

Diana then said. "Truth will out, and I don't believe you Clea." Diana said to her enemy. "If you don't have the Trident in your hands, it's because you can no longer wield it."

For a moment there was a look of hatred in the giant Ha-Mazon's eyes, she let go of the Lasso of truth like it was something vile. "I can do anything I wish." She growled.

"If you believed that – then you would not be here."

Clear lashed out, but Diana caught the blow against the crossed aegis shield of her gauntlets, pushing away with both wrists pressed together the concussive force of the blow sent Clea reeling backwards.

"You may have my strength, and the power of flight." Diana said as she kicked out at the Queen, but you don't have the gifts the gods gave me."

Clea tumbled into the higher levels of the Citadel, smashing through stone. Diana followed.

Clea shook herself free of the rubble, but Diana was already at her throat, driving the Queen through the stone floor and into the next storey of the tower. Clea staggered, as if bearing an incredibly heavy load. The Ha-Mazon tried to rise, but the stone beneath her feet cracked.

Diana understood at once, and Wonder Woman would thank Starman later.

Ted Knight was battered, his green cloak torn, but his cosmic rod kept him in the fight. Starman had increased the Ha-Mazon Queen's mass, giving Diana the hundredths of a second advantage over her swift opponent, the Amazon Princess cast her lariat, and this time Clea was not quick enough to avoid the spinning golden rope, the lasso settled around the Queen, binding her arms, and then her legs. In a heartbeat the giant woman was enclosed by the circling golden cord, and held fast by it she was bound helpless.

The black and silver robes of starry adorned Ha-mazon Celesta came into view. Star-Man's opposing number still pursued him. Her music assaulted Diana's especially acute ears, it seemed to emanate from her very being.

Wonder Woman resolved to pay back Starman's help, but as it happened her victory over Clea was enough. Celesta caught sight of her fallen Queen the Venturian's music missed a beat. Ted Knight didn't, his cosmic rod protective field snapped from around him, and enclosed Celesta. Her celestial energy was contained by an energy filed, a technology derived from a thousand years of studying the unique biology of Superman. Angrily Celesta leapt towards him, knowing that now Starman's protective aura was displaced she could finally strike him down, and in this she was right. She was still a Ha-Mazon, hers was the physical advantage. Diana however stood in her way before she could complete the deadly blow, and Wonder Woman's magic vambraces struck upwards into the chin of the towering woman. Celesta fell stunned to the floor. Ted Knight used his Cosmic Rod to fashion bonds. Diana gestured to Starman to follow her, as she picked up the bound form of Clea, he Celesta, and together they flew down to the Citadel's heart and into the now wrecked Temple of Ares.

-'S'-

Lois Lane took a step backwards, ready to defend herself, but thankfully the fight didn't come to her. Simply this thoroughfare leading away from the Temple of Ares presented a confused and opaque scene. There was the brilliance of the Noon Witch versus the darkness of Mid-Nite's grenades made what she could see colourless.

From above a black caped figure leapt into the fray. Lois recognised the costumed Hour-Man fighting into the midst of the giant yapping wolves and snapping Lizards, it was reminiscent of the Metropolis Marvel by way of Gotham. The dark cloak of the Man of the Hour flapped behind him, and among the beasts Lois saw a flash of yellow from his costume. Lane had no idea he was so powerful. This wasp had a sting. He fought furiously, as if every second counted, and like the black and yellow insect predator he was able to bring to bare strength many times greater than his size. Hour-Man's super-human effort forced the snarling monsters back.

This left the individually named Axis Agents to square off against her friends and allies. All but one. The short man in black who had called himself Ninja took a flying leap at the buzzing blur that was Hour-Man in middle of the two pack beast attackers, reptile and wolf. Darkness and brilliance clashed again, and she lost sight of this fight.

Lois watched the enemy leap forward, running towards their American counterparts. This balance of powers struck Lois as deliberate. She waited to learn who – if any of these Axis agents had her number.

She had not the luxury of time for reflection, as it seemed the featureless face of Mimic was running at her, the creatures luger was drawn. There was no time to think, Lane liked to act anyway, leap first while asking questions all the time, was her attitude to her job and life in general. Lois tackled the running woman, driving the faceless Nazi to the ground. As she grappled with Mimic she guessed that the enemy agent had actually been targeting her friend, Dee Dee. It was like she wasn't included, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Lois Lane - ignored. A fist made contact with her ear. She reeled from the painful blow. Mimic with her other hand aimed the pistol at Dee Dee.

It seemed inevitable. Desperately Lois made a grab for the luger. There was a shot.

It wasn't this gun. Sally Norris's weapon sounded once more, Lois glimpsed the Special Agent, seeing the Spy was in a shoot out with the enemy called Provacteur.

Great she thought – I'm really not on the list. Mimic flipped them over.

For a moment Lois saw her own death going unrecorded. Mimic stopped targeting Dee Dee, and turned her gun against Lois. Lane was now under the faceless Nazi, who straddled the Girl Reporter automatic in hand. Suddenly Lois was looking into a mirror, the face she saw was her own, and this was no happenstance look alike, like Dee Dee, or Sally, but Mimic had become her twin in every way.

"Figures." Lios growled. "With a name like Mimic."

Mimic smiled, evidently pleased with her or his – self.

Later Lois would have time to reflect on the shape shifter, but not now. For this was also the same moment a dark clad figure of the one called Ninja hurtled over her, but not them both. Mimic was caught by the body in motion and sent rolling across the pavement of the vaulted street. Then Dee Dee did something unexpected, her punch took the formally faceless Nazi down hard. Lois felt like cheering, the Actress had acted out the role of street fighter accurately.

Lois reminded herself that Dee Dee's helpless little girl act was exactly that, it was a reflection of De Winters talent that it was so easy to forget.

Lane managed to get to her knees when emerging out of the confusion of light and darkness ran the Atom. Lane didn't know where the diminutive pugilist had come from but his fist glowed red, and mouth and eyes were stern and determined. She guessed it had been the Atom who had made contact with the far eastern Fascist, sending him backwards from the unseen loud tumult that was Hour-Man versus the snarling monsters of scales and fur. If so the Atom's powerful punch had been exquisitely calculated, having sent the man in black directly into Mimic, thankfully. Lois made a mental note to thank the Atom for saving her, if that is, they got out of this alive. Ninja had continued tumbling onwards and into the path of the Agent Provacteur, causing the seductive dressed Nazi to quickly retreat. Sally Norris stepped forward seizing on this unexpected gift of an advantage and fired, but so did her enemy. Both fell.

The Ninja rolled, twisting over again the now prone form of the downed Provacteur and shook himself upright. His feet glowed in the same manner as the Atom's fists, and the lithe man leapt at the short American, screaming a cry of "Banzai!"

Lois joined Dee Dee, their backs pressed against the stone wall of the vaulted Venturian Street. At least Lane thought no one is coming through the stonework – she hoped. In front of them the darkness and yellow brilliance waned so that more of Citadels internal street scene became visible.

The Bat-Man was locked in a deadly dance with the character called Knights Bane. Lois recognised the fighting style as oriental, similar to that of the black clad Ninja. The closest she'd ever felt to her father was when he showed her how to throw a punch. It was this martial experience that let her be analytical, even now, in the middle of all this. It was that or roll into a ball and whimper, and Lanes didn't run away, she could her dad's voice in the back of her mind. There had been a Lane in harms way in uniform since the Revolutionary War. Dad was reminding her to "man up soldier". Maybe that was why she was suddenly unreasonably pissed at not having a dedicated opposite number.

"What am I – Not good enough?" She found herself saying. Dee Dee looked at her confused.

Lois glanced back into the black and white confusion of dark and yellow brilliance. She took Dee Dee's hand. "C'mon."

The Bat-Man was fighting practically himself. Both he and Knights Bane moving in an acrobatic and focused manner, more controlled than the street style she, and it seemed the stocky Atom was familiar with. Ninja sent the small man reeling, his power kicks infused with a fearful sickly yellow aura.

This was deadly stuff, but there was no time to pause and reflect, Sally Norris was down."Move it Soldier." Her Dad's voice echoed in her mind.

She and Dee Dee bounded the short distance remaining out to where Sally knelt. Norris had been hit, Lois could see that the bullet had entered and clearly exited her left arm. Sally's opposite number hadn't been so lucky. The Spy's aim had been a inch or so closer to centre. Agent Provocteur was dead, a textbook chest shot. Lois grabbed the Spy's gun and gave it Dee Dee. The Actress knew how to hold a gun. Lois hoped she knew how to use it too. Lane used pressure on Sally's wound. The special agent grimaced but didn't whimper.

"I think it's broken." Lois observed. Gunshots would do that through percussive force.

As she held back the blood, and Dee Dee ripped her skirt into a field dressing, Lois watched the fighting continue. Hour-Man was visible again. He held the beasts attention, outnumbered Man of the Hour reminded her of Superman, but as far as he threw down the Lyncanthropes and the Raptors, another would recover, leaping and snapping. Hour man valiantly kept the beasts back, and the fight in the street on a one to one basis for his Justice Battalion compatriots.

The Bat-Man versus Knights Bane was almost like one man shadow boxing, working against himself in front a mirror. Blow met counter blow, low sweep with the leg, or high kick to the head either Knights Bane, or Gotham's Dark Knight Detective, countered the other's attack with a corresponding defence. It was as if each man were in fact fighting himself. As Lois helped Dee Dee bind Sally's wound, she reflected that was the Noon Witches earlier claim. "They have your skills in addition to whatever abilities they possessed already", and it was because of that latter claim that Lois saw even these one on one conflicts were not that equal.

Doctor Mid-Nite faced Bertha Holde, she with blonde white light hair, he with artificial darkness, yet she was a magic user, and he – given his earlier professional manner, Lane guessed a medical Doctor. How was this a fair fight? Mid-Nite leapt away from the sparking fire that dripped from the cackling Noon Witches talons. He was clearly on the back foot.

Mercy and Robin faced no less daunting odds. There was the Ha-Mazon that Bertha had called Torment. Mercy for her part danced around the taller woman, who enjoyed the advantages of size and weight. Torment had not been the Gotham Vigilante's first choice of opponent.

Lois recalled that both Mercy and the Bat-Man had first struck out together targeting the bigger man, the self styled Cuckcoo. He had barrelled toward the Boy Wonder with determination. The look in the American Nazi's eye was murderous. Now the two adults were engaged with their specific doppelgängers, Lane realised the child Robin was forced to deal with the hulking Cuckcoo alone. Lois's heart skipped a beat but the youth was incredibly agile, and while the bigger man was clearly acrobatic in his moves, stolen skill according to the Noon Witch, his sheer mass worked against him. Muscles size meant in practise sacrificing movement. It was this edge the Boy Wonder had over the bigger and stronger foe, and so far he had stayed ahead, but for how long Lois wondered. She tied off the makeshift field dressing.

"Miss Lane." A voice placed into her hand a gun.

"Sandman?" Lois gasped surprised. Now the masked master of knock out gas joined the battle. The odds shifted in their favour.

Robin landed an incredible high kick hard into the Cuckcoo's bull neck. The big man coughed angrily, it was a brave blow too far however, for the Nazi American grabbed for the boy's cloak, and this time he connected. He pulled Robin down to him. Lois swallowed a scream, and then a cheer as the Sandman's gas gun hissed like an angry snake, and a sticky splurge of chemical intoxicant stuck to Cuckcoo open gasping mouth. Now the big man faltered, unconsciousness came swiftly. Allowing Robin to fall gracefully from the Cuckoo's grasp.

The Bat-Man too gambled. Lois's attention was drawn as the Dark Knight absorbed a cruel punch to his mid-section. Her first thought was that the Bat-Man had failed to defend, but the mistake was really a feint, a necessary sacrifice. The Bat-Man jabbed something into his opposite numbers leg. Knights Bane gasped he reached for the hypodermic needle, but the Bat-Man his jaw set in a grim defiance of pain, struck at Knight Bane's hand with his own, grabbing twisting around. Both Knights stumbled, both gasped. One was winded, the other drugged. Whatever toxin the Bat-Man had brought from his utility belt and into the meat of Nazi's leg worked. Only the American rose from the floor holding his solar plexus, the set of his jaw as ever grim.

Lois reflected that witchcraft had copied the Bat-Man's abilities but not his impressive technical toys.

Almost in the same moment Robin propelled himself in a impressive flying leap towards the towering Ha-Mazon who single mindedly faced Mercy, she for her part danced low sweeping at her opponents legs as the Boy Wonder's kick caught the taller woman's chin.

There was no respite for Mid-Nite however. His darkness was gone. Only yellow brilliance remained. The Noon Witch had him. Bertha Holde stood ready to deliver a killing blow, pausing in triumph the magic user stood over the battered Doctor slumped upon the ground. It was a moment she was clearly relishing, her hand glowed yellow like a vast dagger.

"Fear me." She cried, but she had forgotten about Lois Lane, and the intrepid Girl Reporter saw the opportunity. The Noon Witch made for bright target. Lois aimed and fired the Sandman's gun. The heavy .45 had a hell of a kick, but Sam Lane had made sure his daughters were competent with firearms, and Lois had worked hard to be a good shot, she'd worked hard to please her father, now she made an impression on the Noon Witch.

Bertha Holde fell back into a yellow brightness of light, her white robe now more than edged with red, but stained with it.

Lois again had no time to reflect. The Witches sudden disappearance was magical. Get over it. Move Soldier, her dad's voice shouted. She ran over to Mid-Nite. Dee Dee ran with her. Together they helped the good Doctor to his feet, the battered man spat blood. He reached into his pouch and brought an ampoule to his mouth and bit down. Lois guessed it was for the pain.

Across the other side of the vaulted thoroughfare, the Atom reeled back and then fell again, his cheeky grin was a bloody maw. Lois watched him stagger heart in mouth, but this time the Ninja's feet sailed over his head as the Atom dived. His glowing fists angrily punched the stone street beneath him. There was a thunderous crack as the pavement shattered underneath both combatants, and together the Atom and the Ninja fell amongst the broken stone. They fell out into the wide blue expanse of sky beneath this leafy outcrop of the Citadel.

This time Lois finds the the time to scream.

The Bat-Man sends a line hurtling from his hand attached to a boomerang shaped like a bat. Lois would have laughed at that little detail on any other day. The heavily built Dark Knight braces himself as the line goes taught, and the battered Atom appears from the hole clambering back into the Citadel.

-'S'-

Aquaman had no idea where 'Nixe' had come from. The creature screamed the name loud enough. "Nixe!" It bellowed time and time again.

Nixe swept them both up from out of the waters of the Venturian port, under the shadow of the Citadel. The ghost like aquatic ghoul was vengeful and violent, and rode a wave of water that carried him within it. The water obeyed the creature like clay the potter. It was akin to the strange control the Trident of Poseidon had over the waves. The Sea King, master of his element kicked hard against the salt and drove into translucent form before him.

Now Arthur grasped the reality of what Nixe was. Neither flesh nor spirit, but something in between. Nixe became like water in his hands, at least when it wished to be, becoming denser at will. Aquaman face to face with the water ghoul recognised the twisted features as he wrestled with the being, it was the traitor from Tritonis the usurper Akthar. Claws raked at his Ancient Atlantean armour, talons that were as sharp as high pressure needles of water.

How had Akthar broken free of Tritonis? Aquaman could only guess that the fallen Marshal had Mermen still loyal to his cause – this turn of events was easier to reconcile than Akthar's impossible transformation into a god-like being.

Together they fell back toward the sea, locked in titanic struggle, Arthur bred to survive at the ocean's deepest reaches, with a creature possessing all the extreme power of that great weight of water.

Then from his left he saw a flash of a red cloak, an idea formed. He wrenched his way through the aqueous form of his enemy, who sought to escape the Sea Kings vice like grip as water would, Arthur saw the glint of steel. Polished automatics.

"Shoot." Aquaman shouted to Mr America.

Tex Thompson dived past him riding on the air, by virtue of his recently acquired red magic cloak. Mr America twisted on the wind and aimed his guns at the reforming figure of Nixe.

Aquaman swam up the cresting wave and out after Mr America. Tex Thompson's guns flashed and bullets tore into the partially formed body of Akthar. The water spirit laughed as they passed through his insubstantial body.

Aquaman had counted on this gambit. The Sea King was ready and fell upon Nixe. Driving through the watery form of Akthar like a spinning top. Nixe faced with being dispelled increased his density, to wrestle with and repel the Sea King. Akthar regained his corporeal form.

It was then that Thompson fired again.

Blood entered the water, as the metal from Mr America's guns tore into the solidifying form of Akthar. The transformed Merman's laughter turned to a scream, and the radically altered Akthar fell back into harbour.

Tex Thompson swooped down and caught Aquaman's wrist.

"Better late than never." The Texan said. "Do you think that did for him?"

Aquaman shrugged. "Perhaps." He then said. "Thanks for the ride by the way." This had been his plan. Just a five minute job. Aquaman intended to quickly rehydrate in the salt water of the harbour, and the Sea King had an idea that Mr America would use his new found ability of flight, granted by the cloak taken from Ultra's Vault in Los Angeles to get him back quickly to the Temple of Ares, and join the others in going back to the real world via the portal.

Mr America swept upwards across the docks rising back to the middle section of the Citadel. As he did so Arthur noted a body on the quayside. "Is that the Ha-Mazon that came after you?"

"Affirmative." Thompson acknowledged. "She was gunning for me, but she didn't have a magic flying cape."

Tex Thompson flew them back into a war zone. The Temple was broken open, Pat Dugan or Stripes as he was code-named, was locked into fist fight with a Crystal Skulled enemy, the combination of the Ancient Atlantean battle armour and the others super-powers had wrecked the outer transept of the shrine and broken down the vast double doors, the roof had partially collapsed, and in the rubble Dugan and the Crystal Skull were still pounding one another.

For a moment Aquaman still wet from the sea contemplated assisting the armoured Dugan. Then the Sea King saw a familiar face.

Aquaman released Tex Thompson's wrist and fell onto Black Jakob Fange, whose aged face was the only recognisable feature of his transformed skeletal body. Despite this deathly frame Black Jack remained strong, but he was not the equal of the Sea King. Fange fell beaten at Aquaman's feet.

Tex Thompson over flew the gun fight between Rage and Fear against the Avengers, his guns coming to the latter's aide. The Star Spangled Kid leapt above the figures of some downed creatures which Aquaman could only describe as monsters twisting between arrows from Nazi's carrying Atlantean bows catching one a solid blow as he tumbled, the other sidesteps into the fist of the Green Arrow. Speedy Harper makes sure the first bowman stays down.

The Star Spangled Kids flying kick smacks the Crystal Skull, driving him into Stripes armoured fists. The Sea King watches as a combination of hammer blows accompanied by hot read blasts of fire from the cannon on Stripes's forearms pound the Skull into the floor.

Again he sees the balance tip in their favour. The next move is obvious, so much so Aquaman is joined unbidden by the Star Spangled Kid. The Sea King charges at the enemy as the Kid calls out to them. "Hey, Rage and Fear, over here you idiots!"

Hearing his taunt the two men turn their guns away from the Avengers. From Tex Thompson above. They target the Star Spangled Kid, or at least try to. The Sea King runs through this rain of bullets, shrugging off the seemingly endless stream of shells from his resilient hide. Sly Pemberton, dances through and above the volley unharmed. Their feint succeeds as Crimson Avenger and Wing leap from cover, moving so quickly it seems they have moved without moving. Rage and Fear fall.

Stood over their opposite numbers. The Crimson Avenger observes. "It's interesting, Rage and Fear's guns like ours had an inexplicably endless supply of ammunition. Yet Skull and Bones weren't given the abilities that Stars and Stripes possess."

"Niether the Ha-Mazon who attacked me – I could fly, she could not."

"It seems we have luck on our side." Aquaman suggested.

"Perhaps it's because Mister America, Pat and I haven't powers as such – I mean we're using devices from Ulta's vault." Sly noted. "We didn't benefit, for want of a better word, from the magic of this Atlantean Heart Stone."

"True, and we did." Wing agreed. "Our weapons were changed in the Portal – some sort of unexpected reaction with the Heart Stone."

Crimson nodded. "And these Seven Hounds of War were created when the Heart Stone was broken. I guess that makes sense – in as much as magic can." He stated.

"What of Nixe." Aquaman said. "My opposite number." He explained. Saying. "My abilities are nothing to do with the Heart Stone."

The Crimson Avenger nodded. "I haven't any magic of my own, not until now that is." He glanced at his guns. "But I have studied these things in the East. My guess Aquaman is your powers were known to the enemy, it is probable whatever spell was woven was designed to mimic the heroes they knew about, and another more general incantation on top that to cover the unexpected."

"There was clearly more than one spell at work." Wing said. "How else to you explain the Wolf men and the Lizards?" He pointed across the Temple. "Look Bart Regan has captured one of the Nazi's and he didn't change."

"Or didn't change in a visible way." Tex Thompson suggested.

"Like the Hells Bows, or Abjure." The Star Spangled Kid agreed his hand gesturing to where the Green Arrow and Speedy, with the Vigilante had secured their opposite numbers among the Seven Hounds of War.

Aquaman saw emerging from the lower levels Gotham's Bat-Man and with him his fellow vigilantes Mercy and Robin.

The battle for the Temple was over.

-'S'-

Bruce Wayne felt the bitter sweet pain of victory, his ribs screamed, but he had won, beaten himself. Whatever spell had been cast by Betcha Holde, the magic had not duplicated every advantage the Allied Heroes possessed. Technology independent of this Lost Land of Atlantis and the Heart Stone had not been magically copied. Not for the first time his utility belt had saved him.

After his friend Wesley had stepped up and helped Robin take down the hulking Cuckcoo, they had been joined first by the Flash and Johnny Quick, then shortly after the incredible Robot Man. These three had at once thrown in with Hour-Man, facing off the Lycanthropes and Lizards. Wayne had put aside his questions about Man of Metal, and seized this opportunity. He had quickly located the following American sailors and their Captain from the Sea Tiger.

Climbing up from the Citadels lower levels, from the vaulted Streets of the Tower-city the Bat-Man now returned to the Temple of Ares.. The once splendid shrine truly looked like a bomb had hit it.

Bart Regan understandably let out an anguished cry. The Spy ran forward to help Chuck Grayson. The scientist along with Captain Sherman, helped Regan's wounded girlfriend, and fellow agent Sally Norris. Following them was the young man from New York, judging by his accent. Called Lieutenant Holden, this officer assisted the injured Doctor Mid-Nite, and with him came the reunited crew of Sea Tiger. Bruce recognised the Military intelligence agents Captain Steve Trevor and Colonel Darnel escorted Land and De Winters.

The Bat-Man watches as the chemically enhanced Hour-Man leaps ahead of them.

"They must have beaten the monsters." Robin said to him.

"So it seems." The Bat-Man noted. He saw that Robot Man followed. He concluded the Flash and Johnny Quick were already here.

Hour-Man's costume tattered and bloody, his wounds visibly healing at an accelerated rate. Bruce resolves to do more research into this drug Miraclo. Reflecting on his aches and painful ribs, it would be useful Wayne decides.

"What happened – suddenly the Monsters just up and ran." Hour-Man asked him.

Bruce shrugged. "Perhaps they saw that they were out gunned as it were."

"I'm guessing that was me." Aquaman answered joining them.

There was brief but courteous nodding of heads and shaking of hands, as men must do. The Star Spangled Kid and the heavily armoured Stripes followed the mythical Aquatic Super-Man.

The Kid explained. "When Aquaman took out Black Jack, I think he must have knocked out Bones's connection with them, at least that's why I saw, what I thought, that it was Fange who was controlling these monsters - these Lizards and Wolf men as I fought them."

"It makes sense." Aquaman agreed. "That Fange was at least influencing them, if not controlling them directly – it's not so different from the secrets he learned from Akthar the traitor from Tritonis. Making the monsters of the deep attack."

Bruce was disturbed, what else would the Lost Land reveal.

Behind the sailors came the bruised and battered Atom, he was helped along by the Navy Scientist Terry Sloane.

"What happened to the creature you were both fighting?" Aquaman asked the Kid. "The Skull to Fange's bones.

Pat Dugan laughed. His broad grin revealed as he tipped back the helm of his armour to reveal his face. "Sly and I drove the Crystal Skull through the floor of the Temple. Last I saw him he was a-tumbling down, groundwards."

Bruce is relieved to see that the damage to Temple had been in the outer transept, the inner arena around the Portal and alter to Ares remained relatively intact. Now the Dark Knight wondered how to reconnect with the real world. "Does anyone know what has become of Doctor Fate, Gio Zatara and Sargon?"

The silence was ominous. Bruce reflected that without the magic users the Portal remained closed.

As the Bat-Man mulled over this the deep and resonant voice of the Spectre spoked in answer to the Dark Knight. Even as the avenging Angel appeared before them once more. "The Ultra Humanite has harassed the power of the god-wave to recreate the Annunki's most feared weapon, a biological machine called the Typhon."

Bruce shook his head. That the Spectre joined them with this news was damning. "Myth tells that it took the King of the gods, Zeus in all his power and strength to defeat the Typhon."

"Aye." The Spectre agreed. "Now this monster Titan of old lives anew as the avatar of the Ultra Humanite."

The Spectre pointed out to the distant sea, through the ruined wall of the shrine. The approaching shadow in the sky and over the waves was approaching, its monstrous form visible even to human eyes.

Batman brought a pair of expanding field glasses to his eyes. He turned to his old friend.

"Sandman – do have any thoughts."

"Dreams perhaps."

Aquaman's natural vision was no doubt incredibly acute. "It seems we win one battle only to live a fight another." The Sea King shook his head. "I think I saw Superman fall."

"He will rise." The Sandman told them, even as Aquaman leapt into the air. His great leap followed by an equally incredible dive, the golden orange and green figure plunged down towards the water far below. His intentions obvious, to aide the Man of Steel.

-'S'-

Superman grit his teeth as he sank into the cool blue waters, all the while his head swam, the Typhon's blow had stunned him. Moments later, how long he couldn't be sure he gained his faculties. His head aching, his body racked with pain Superman looked upwards, and his incredible vision peered out into the sky. Above Alan Scott has engaged the Typhon. His signature emerald light shone out and around the Titan. The Green Lantern had willed into being a vast lariat which had wound around the towering Typhon. Its wings fowled by the titanic line. The monster had fallen back into the water. Its progress stalled. Thrashing it sent tumultuous waves to coast of Venturia.

Yet riding atop one of these was the strangest boat. Superman wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. He could see a catamaran of vital wood, driven by the wind caught against vast sails made of living and growing green leaf. Then as the boat crested the waves of boiling water, the craft leapt from white froth, its shape changed as great green leaves grew outwards on stout branches, taking the shape of great bird, that like an albatross glided towards where the Green Lantern's will embodied wrestled with the Titan below.

Superman shakes himself and pushes back. Pain from his arm and torso reminds him he is not yet himself.

Swooping down on leafy wings, the wooden plane grew and sprouted wooden spears, that like seeds exploding from their pods rained down onto the man below.

Superman can see how the Green Lantern in this moment is lost in concentration, fixed on his battle of will, man against monster by virtue of the Emerald light.

Superman sees Alan Scott stuck by the wooden barbs. His weakness magically known and exploited by this strange creature. Quick reactions save Scott from death. The Green Lantern falls back away from the wooden barbs, injured. Bleeding and pierced in his shoulder, arm and leg. The Emerald Light snaps away from the Typhon, and Ultra roars in appreciation. Splashing the vast Chimera rises from the sea once more. Again making for the shore.

Superman can see the Green Lantern's ring has acted to save him, wrapping Alan's wounds in Emerald bandages. For the moment Alan is safe.

Superman as he pushes upward through his pain spits red into the water. Blood he knew was an invitation to the monsters that swam in the seas of Venturia to seek him out. The thought causes the Man of Tomorrow in that moment to glance back into the depths, rather than the skies and he is amazed. Superman sees the monsters of the seas coming upwards, the great prehistoric sharks and lizards, also giant Octopus, and Colossal Squid, all swam towards the Typhon's shadow. For a moment Superman wonders if Ultra is responsible. He presses on ignoring the pain. The Typhons blow had shattered bone, and even his incredible capacity to rejuvenate had not returned him to fighting fitness. Not yet at least.

Then Aquaman moving at great speed through the water as only he could caught hold of his good arm.

"I have you Superman." Arthur said. "How are you injured?"

"My right arm is broken, a couple of ribs, I think." Superman told him. "Give me a minute I'll be okay." Superman pointed with his good arm, asking with hope. "That armada of Sea Creatures, is that your doing?"

"I have them in my thrall." The Sea King replied. "But I did not call them. They did." He pointed to the army beyond the creatures. Superman saw them now, Mer-people that followed the vast sea creatures through the blue, at their head swam their King Antonis.

"How – why?" Superman asked. After the plain speaking between Tritonis's Monarch and the Americans aboard the Sea Tiger, the Man of Tomorrow had not expected Tritonis forces to venture forth from their submerged city through the portal to Lost Atlantis. Yet the Mer King had come, and come in force.

"Akthar is free." How I don't know. "But he is among those transformed."

"Transformed?" Superman asked. Thinking I have been so absorbed in the fight with the Typhon that Ultra has summoned and possessed, that I have not been observing what has taken place within the Citadel. "Alan needs our help." Superman stated. His questions would have to wait.

From the blue a mercurial figure appeared beside the Sea King.

Superman recognised magic, if he did not the silver bearded man, who now addressed him.

Around him the world seemed to slow down, as if time itself had stopped.

"Aye Superman, three times has old magic returned to the Lost Land of Atlantis. Once when your friend became both man and machine, twice when your friends were touched by the power of the Heart Stone as they travelled through the Portal between worlds, and again when the Heart Stone was broken by Clea's use of the Trident."

"Merlin." Aquaman said.

Superman mouthed the name. The wizard of legend, the sorcerer who had empowered the Shining Knight. He dared hope.

"Aye son of Poseidonis." Merlin said with smile. "I warned you of the power of the Trident. Now you must all play your part. Science and Magic in equal parts. You must wield the Poseidon's Spear Arthur Curry, and you Superman must set the fire, for it is still possible to heal the Broken Heart of the Lost Land of Atlantis in the flames. Only such a bonfire of vanities can prevent this realm from returning to your Earth and upsetting forever the balance in the real world."

-'S'-

"Superman always seems to come back fighting." Terry Sloane stated.

Bat-Man had learned from Captain Sherman how the young genius has been in the middle of the scrap to free the captive Americans and Clea's other slaves and prisoners from the Citadel's lower levels. Lieutenant Holden had called him Mister Terrific.

The Flash and Johnny Quick returned to them as if by magic, but simply by virtue of some great speed without consequences. "No sign of Doctor Fate, Gio or John." Jay Garrick reported.

"We've run throughout the Citadel." Johnny Quick added. "It's chaos, but the Aurians have the upper hand."

"We better.." Jay said and then both were gone. Bruce didn't need telling – he knew where. Like Aquaman they were running to aid Superman, and the Green Lantern, in the battle against the Typhon.

The Bat-Man heard the approach of wings. Looking up he spied both friends and allies. First came Queen Eeas on her huge winged bat. Even Bruce found himself almost smiling at the sight of the colossal flying fox-bat. The Aurian Monarch was accompanied at either hand by Hawk Man and Hawk Girl, they led the great flying foxes of the Aurians to the Temple. The leathery winged mammals landing on the rubble of the collapsed outer transept of the Shrine. With Eeras was her loyal Queens Guard. Mounted Aerial Knights of Auria.

She rose up from her saddle and shouted to them all raising her sword. Saluting it seemed the salt and pepper haired Captain Sherman.

Terry Sloane translated the Queen's words to English.

"Friends my Knights had taken the strongholds within the city-tower. Clea's people have opened their hearts and homes to us, the commoners of Venturia are loyal to Clea and her Knights out of fear not love. The city is in revolt."

"And I have Clea." Diana announced as she too dropped to the Arena floor. The Venturian Queen was still bound in Wonder Woman's lasso.

Bruce watched as the Starman followed, he too carried a captive Ha-Mazon.

Diana looked out across the water to the coming Typhon. He wagered with himself that he could guess her thoughts. Where is Superman?

Mister Terrific frowned and said. "We must regroup, preferably the other side of the Portal."

The Bat-Man agreed. "Yes that would be optimal, but we can't get through."

Terry Sloane was smart enough to be scared, and smart enough not to say as much.

"I trust you'll please translate what I'm going to say to the Aurians for me?" Bruce asked the younger man.

Sloane nodded.

"Friends and allies. Atlantis is rising, returning to our world. I don't know if we can stop that happening. For now we're stuck here, riding this Island back to the real world. I don't know for certain what Ultra will do when the Typhon makes the shore, or when Atlantis returns, but I don't need to know that both things will be bad news. Simply we have to buy time – time to locate Doctor Fate, Zatara and Sargon, and just maybe find a winning strategy."

Terry Sloane exchanged words with the Aurian Monarch. He then said. "Queen Eeras offers us wings, that is a ride on these great bats. To help locate Fate and the others, but there is little her Knights can do against the Typhon, their arrows no longer burn now the Heart Stone is broken."

"And neither will the Venturians Lightning Lances I wager." Diana said.

"Has the Queen an idea as to where they are?" The Bat-Man asked.

"She says she has her suspicions. There is a prophecy about the breaking of the Heart Stone."

Mister Terrific listened again the Eeras. "The Heart Stone that is broken by blood, should it be broken again, it will break seven times seven and shatter. By death to bring doom."

"And?" Bruce pressed.

"It is the Heart Stone." The Sandman said with conviction. "I dreamt of glass prison – that's where they are." Dodds said with certainty.

The Bat-Man quickly drew his own conclusions. Grim faced he turned to Wonder Woman saying. "No doubt you'll need your Lasso. Perhaps if you bind Clea as you would yourself, then there is a good chance she will remain helpless."

Diana frowned but nodded. "I see your logic Detective. If she has taken my strength, then also she has taken my weaknesses."

The Dark Knight brought from his belt a fine steel wire, and with a deft touch rapidly bound Clea's hand's together. Diana grabbed her ankles as he wrapped the line around these too.

Bruce betrayed himself with a smile. "She is bound and therefore powerless – correct?"

Aurian Knights dropped from their saddles to press swords into Clea's exposed back.

Terry Sloane translated their Queen's joy at seeing her old enemy brought low.

"You are correct Bat-Man." Diana admitted. "I felt her great strength wane through the golden cord of my Lasso as you bound her." As she gathered up her Lariat Wonder Woman looked at the Bat-Man, adding. "I see you have been researching my weaknesses."

"It's what I do."

Mercy had reason to smile. Bruce saw his wife's lips curl as their ward Robin bounced past his mentor and forward, unable to curb his excitement. Running towards the great flying mammals of Auria's forest fascinated. "I get to ride one of these." The Boy Wonder exclaimed. "I mean." He then said embarrassed. "Can I ride with you?" He asked Bruce.

The Foxbat closest to the caped boy, sniffed him warily. Above him the mounted Aurian Knight frowned at Robin's unintelligible English.

Diana took command. "Flyers to me. We must go to the aid of Superman and the Green Lantern, and try and delay the Typhon."

"And we'll try and locate Fate, Zatarra and Sargon." Bruce replied. To Wesley Dodds he said. "God above old friend, I hope they're still alive in whatever prison you glimpsed."

Wesley nodded through his mask. "So do I."

-'S'-

From the water rises Aquaman. Superman follows, as he is plucked from the Sea. Carried in a great swimming leap. Superman still cradles his arm, broken by the lashing blow of the Kraken. He is injured but not beaten, or deprived of his great strength. As the light of day kissed the skin of the Man of Tomorrow he felt his Kryptonian physiology accelerate. He felt the wind beneath his cape. Superman took to the air. Aquaman continued his flying leap from the water catching the falling injured Green Lantern. The Flash came to Alan's side and at speed removed the wooden staves from his body. In that moment the Green Light of Ring wrapped his wounds instantly stemming the flow of blood once more.

Superman knows that in the armour of his Emerald Power Alan would live.

The strange moment of timelessness is past. Merlin has gone. Superman knows what he must do.

Above the self proclaimed Hells Wood, a creature of magic and wood plunged toward the Emerald Knight. Its form that of wooden dart. Superman's heat vision flashed flame towards the wooden assassin.

Superman could only hope whatever magic had created the Hells Wood creature had imbued it with the same strengths and weaknesses as the greenwood from which the living avatar took inspiration. Superman now flexed his arm, and while his face registered pain, he felt satisfaction as his heat vision contacted Hells Wood dart like form. The wooden stake began to burn. In this moment, the creature shifted shape again, shrinking in the fire to the man sized original. An Annunki, the reptile had been given its abilities by the chaotic god-wave echo. Down it dived seeking the water.

Merlin had explained succinctly how the Trident had broken the Heart Stone which had been doused with blood drawn from Axis, Annunki, and Venturian agents. This blood magic had driven the god-wave echo back into these chosen agents. Some had become super powered adversaries. Others had stolen skills. Some had gained other abilites, and the remainder had become monsters. Aquaman had faced Nixe, as the Green Lantern had Hells Wood. In the Citadel Superman now knew his friends had faced an enemy version of themselves.

The Justice Battalion and the Seven Soldiers had been victorious, they had retained the advantage by luck accident and through disciplined team work.

Superman knew the Green Lantern had been invalided out of this fight with Ultra, but more importantly he was needed elsewhere, along with Aquaman. If Merlin's plan was to work.

His friends needed him, and that meant halting the advance of this orange gold monster. To keep Ultra the Typhon back from the Heart Stone until the last possible moment.

Superman reflected that in the beast in front of them told its own story. Ultra had clearly some how conspired to take the lions share of the god-wave echo for Ultra. How else could the ghost of greed and avarice have created something so incredible.

Superman hoped this selfishness might yet be his undoing, but the Typhon was so strong. He wondered, is this what it is to feel weak, to feel small and insignificant? Yet Superman carried on, even when he'd lost his powers to K-Metal he had believed he could make a difference as Clark Kent. Yet before the Typhon the Man of Tomorrow was a super man no more. He was just another soldier, and he had his orders.


	83. Chapter 83

1942 – part 21

What happens when an immovable object meets an irresistible force? Superman wondered this, as he contemplated driving himself at the monster with all his strength and all his speed. Like the Annunki's living subterranean fortress, the Typhon which had grown from that living material did not become transparent to his x-ray like vision.

Aquaman was gone, as was the Green Lantern. The Flash and Johnny Quick had skimmed the waves going them back to shore.

The plan demanded it.

So it was down to him and him alone. Yet attacking the Typhon was at best a desperate gambit, and he knew it.

For a split second he paused as the childhood memory of a bug splattering on the windscreen of his Pa's Model T came to mind.

In flight, as in life, his body's ever present biological energy aura repelled dirt, dust and crucially bugs as he moved faster than speeding bullet. This protective field was a product of his highly evolved biology, that enhanced his natural density making him increasing resilient. Experience taught Superman that he was still evolving, changing, becoming stronger, and harder to hurt. Some called him 'the invulnerable Man of Steel', but as his still aching and healing arm demonstrated, his invulnerability was relative. It was apparent that the magic that had birthed Typhon had empowered this Titan with true invulnerability to physical damage. Superman was a physical being, so in short the Typhon was immune to his powers.

It was then that Spectre made his presence felt.

Appearing before the vast Typhon the Spectre phased into existence taking on similar gargantuan size.

"You will not pass." The Avenging Angel cried.

"Stall me here if you must." Ultra cried. "But we both know that the Lost Land of Atlantis will rise, it's progress is inexorable – see how the sky darkens?"

Superman could see the sky being transformed by a dark purple stain. Ultra was right.

"You will not shatter the Heart Stone of Atlantis." The Spectre declared.

"You can no more prevent the shattering of the broken stone, than you could intervene when Clea chose to break the Heart of Lost Land in two, breaking the seal between worlds, and sending Lost Atlantis back to the real world."

"I can bind you Ghost." The Spectre roared, taking took hold of the Typhons serpentine body in a crushing embrace, vast white limbs gripped the scaly orange copper and gold serpent. Huge white legs tensed immersed in the sea to the Spectre's knees.

"If you do this." Ultra hissed. "If you bind us both in perpetual battle. I will not make it easy on you Avenger, and as we fight Atlantis will still rise, and then Wotan will come to my aid, and then together you, America and her Allies, will all know defeat."

The Typhon body of Ultra began to beat the Spectre with it's vast arms. The non corporeal body of the Avenging Angel was ripped apart like water being splashed from a pool by the whip like lashing limbs. The essence of the Spectre was driven into the air where it became like a mist. Rain that returned to the Avenging Angel, driven back into him by unseen wind.

So the Spectre wrestled with monster to a brutal stalemate. Superman was awestruck, truly he thought this is an irresistible force meeting an immovable object.

Yet the balance was about to shift once more.

-'S'-

Robot Man observed the Spectre's intervention. He considered the flattened egg shape of the Kraken adorning the Typhon like a golden crown, a seed from which the greater serpent had sprouted. The Typhon was both mechanical and biological, just as it was magical.

He looked at his own steely coloured hand.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Beside him stood Wesley Dodds, the Sandman, asking him this question. He wore his signature fedora and long coat, that flapped around him. Wind and spray tore through the ruptured walls of the Temple, as did the sound of the conflict beyond the harbour wall. It was this battle of Titans so vast as to create their own weather. It was an unimaginable sight. The Spectre and the Typhon locked in combat.

Moments earlier Wonder Woman had led any who could follow her into the air. Invisible wings carrying the Amazon fast outwards first and foremost. The Princess fast disappearing into the awful darkening purple hue of a sky lit by random jagged flashes of lightning. Starman had accelerated into a red blur, Hawkman and Hawkgirl had followed. As had Stars and Stripes, the former with all the grace of Superman in the air, the latter held aloft a roar of red fire in a manner that reminded Mr America of rocket back packs worn by the fictional future men in the Buck Rodgers Newspaper strips.

Ultra's Orange Dragon made Robert Crane think of his own changed circumstances.

He remembered running with, and ahead of the cat, like Fossa, Aurian mounts, ridden by Americans and slight Ha-Mazon men to the Citadel. He recalled the Tree filled capital where his first steps had been an experiment. This adventure had been a voyage of discovery, allowing him to understand his speed and untiring strength, and when fighting the Raptors and Lycanthropes, he had learned control and precision.

Together these formative experiences had allowed Robert Crane to understand who Robot Man was, and what Robot Man was capable of doing.

Bob, along with kids the world over immersed in the pages of pulps such as Astounding Stories, had in their wildest dreams imagined a Man of Metal. Robotics – automation had been his and Chuck Grayson's life's work. However creating a robot, a machine with greater than human abilities was far beyond the capability of twentieth century science. It had taken the ancient peculiar magic of Lost Atlantis to create Robot Man in the likeness of some hoped for technological future. His already impressive intellect augmented by mechanical means now understood what this body – this sum of individual parts assembled with the help of Chuck Grayson's uncertain hands, could do. Newly constituted bio-mechanical eyes telescoped, viewing and recording. His auditory senses equally amplified the unexpected incoming the transmission. Information streamed into his consciousness, and Bob ever the scientist, processed it.

To the enigmatic Sandman he said. "We are alike. The monster and I."

"Truly?"

"Yes, in this way, Ultra's creature and I are both biomechanical chimeras, machinery given life by magic." Bob stated. This troubled him. His robotic senses saw more than the human eye, and were able to compare his own physiology to that of Ultra's creation.

Wesely Dodds nodded. He turned his face his gas mask hung detached from his face. "I dreamt of this moment, you and I in conversation." He explained. "Talking to you here and now means I can finally understand what I saw."

Crane had learned here of the Sandman's precognitive abilities. He considered the nature of dreams, and guessed the limitations this uncertainty placed on Dodds. It was a peculiar burden to bare.

"Truly?" he asked. Pointing outwards. "And what of the Monster?" Bob asked hopeful for an answer in the other's dreams to the threat Ultra posed.

Dodds nodded, but his words brought more questions. "Someone is calling you Robotman even now."

"I have a signal." He stated. "How did you know..? Robot Man chuckled – the answer had already been given to him.

The Sandman explained saying. "This is what I dreamed. A voice from the past in a storm. A great dragon at sea."

"Then you know who this is in my head." Robotman tapped his metallic domed head. "Who he claims to be."

"Merlin." The Sandman stated. "A Wizard and a Sorcerer, a man made of magic and of science. As out of place in the dark ages of Britain, as you Robot Man are to the science our modern world."

Robot Man listened while at the same time communicating by radio. He concentrated on Merlin's words. Beyond the towering city Bob Crane grasped the detail of the plan. He watched as Wonder Woman confronted the copper gold Titan. The first to come to Superman's aid. He listened to Merlin as Diana cast her lasso around the flailing wings of the monstrous Typhon.

"Superman." She shouts. "Assist me."

The Man of Tomorrow flies to her, wrapping his arms around her lariat the two super humans pull on the unbreakable thread of gold, and together they slowly dragged the Typhon still flaying the giant form of the Spectre into the water, as the two wrestled the sea boiled, and waves tore outwards in turn crashing into the shore, and lashing the harbour and rocking the tower city.

As the Citadel shook from the fight, the purple caped, bare chested Slam Bradley joined Robot Man, the Sandman and the others remaining in the ruined Temple. Ducking and dodging the falling masonry to come to the portal. With him was Cyclotron, and in Curtis's arms a human child. Robot man concluded that this must be his lost daughter Terri.

"I'm glad to see your still with us." Bart Regan said to Bradley.

"Me too." Sally Norris agreed with a broad smile of welcome.

Lois Lane asked "What happened to you?"

Bradley kissed the Spy's cheek and showed concern for her injury – Sally's arm was in a sling. Crane noted that the Atom appeared unsurprised to see his friend back from the dead. Logic indicated more was happening here than could be seen.

Lois Lane was looking at Terri Curtis - the little girl in her father's arms.

Wesley Dodds beckoned the Private Detective to join them. Seeing the Sandman's gesture Slam Bradley detached himself from Lois Lane, Sally Norris and De Winters, and came over to join them, suffering the spray from the tumultuous sea far below.

Robot Man's vision shifted through the invisible spectrum not unlike changing channels on the radio, he noticed a imperceptible aura clung to the big Private Detective. It was as Merlin even now explained, another legacy of the Heart Stone.

Bradley frowned. "I hope you don't rust?" He said.

Robot Man's face formed a mechanical smile. "I think the Sea Tiger gifted me that much."

Across from them the Bat-Man leapt athletically onto the back of an Aurian Flying Fox Bat. It's head held steady by an attendant Ha-Mazon Warrior. The Dark Knight fastened himself to the saddle using the restraint harness, and confidently took the reins. Robin joined him. The woman called Mercy and the Sandman also took advantage of the Aurian Monarch's offer of winged transport. Each taking hold of the reins of the fury flying foxes.

"The Aurian Knights tell me flying with one of these is much the same as riding." Terry Sloane advised the Dark Knight in his role of interpreter of all things Aurian. "Then again she isn't referring to a horse, but to the other Aurian mount of choice, the Giant Fossa."

Robot Man observed these exchanges while listening to the voice from dark ages, and at Merlin's insistence, he switched perspective. His robotic eyes telescoping across the other side of the tower, out through the ruins. Crane observed wings of Aurian and Ha-Mazon's flying out toward the centre of the Lost Land and the Heart Stone. Among them was Queen Eeras.

These Warriors from both sides were riding to the location of Poseidon's Trident. Drawn to the promise of it's power, and the mystery of what had happened to the source of Lost Atlantis's magic – the Heart Stone.

"I hope your right Mr Terrific." Mercy said to Sloane, using the title Lieutenant Holden had first used. "I can ride a horse." She said as she rose into the Aurian Fox Bat saddle. "But I'm not so sure about one of these."

Sloane laughed. "I am also assured that these animals know how to fly, and that the rider's job is to prompt them where to go – that and stay in the saddle."

Mercy stroked the neck of the large flying mammal, before fixing the buckles of the harness. "I sure mean to stay put." Mercy noted. She looked like a child fastening the leather belts to the smallest setting.

"Fossa – Fox Bat! Much the same as riding?" Captain Sherman observed with a laugh. "Yes. Okay those cat things obeyed the same signals, listened to the reigns, but those Fossa don't move like a horse, and I wager these Bats will move ever more differently." He gestured with his hand, waggling up and down, side to side, and then up and over.

Mercy tugged on her harness, checking it once more. "Yes I don't imagine your Fossa did loop the loops way up, several hundred feet over the ground."

Sherman smiled. "True – those cats sure could jump though, but yes – of course Miss Mercy, rather you than me. I'm no fly-boy. Give me a boat any day."

Robot Man felt the Captain's eyes resting upon his metallic hide. Bob Crane had risen phoenix like from the ashes of the advanced Submarines destruction, and the Scientist had worked with Sherman long enough on this project to understand the feeling of loss the Captain must suffer.

"I fear I am too heavy to ride." Robot Man told Sherman. The Navy men were to remain with the Portal, guarding their Axis captives, while protecting the civilians and each other. Along with the Atom, Hour Man, the Green Arrow and Speedy, the Scarlet Avenger and Wing.

"You're as needed here as in the search." The Submarine Capitan replied. "There could be – hell we should expect pockets of resistance within the Citadel."

"No doubt." Robot Man shook his head. "But I think I am needed out there." He said pointing to where the Spectre held the Typhon back in their violent stalemate.

Sherman nodded, at a loss for words, he said at last. "Good luck."

Robot Man nodded and turned back to where the Flying Foxes were being made ready.

Sherman was right, they should expect the unexpected – resistance from the Citadel. For that reason he kept quiet about Merlin and the plan. This was a need to know situation, and above all Robot Man saw the wisdom in not letting Ultra or his allies know their intentions. Even if that meant keeping good men like Sherman in the dark as to what was going on.

Robot Man watched as Slam Bradley climbed into the saddle of one Queen Eeras's animals. The Private Detective once seated and strapped in place, waved to Robot Man. Crane thought to himself, each one of us has our role to play, and Slam must do his part, as I do mine. He looked at his steely palm again, and flexed his metal fingers, thinking, we all must do what comes to hand.

The Bat-Man took the lead. He gestured upwards and outwards saying "Let's find our lost friends – if we can."

"Isn't this just killer diller Bat-Man?" Robin enthused, he was strapped in behind his Mentor. There was ample room on the large Ha-Mazon saddle.

"I prefer my Gyro." The Gotham Detective told the boy as he twitched the reins, urging the winged beast into the air, the giant bat scuttled out of the temple and fell from the broken steps into the sky, letting the wind catch the leather wings. One after the other the Americans and an Aurian escort flew after Queen Eeras in search of lost Magicians.

-'S'-

Aquaman leapt out of the waves and landed onto what had been the grassy plains beside the shore. Muddy and stained where the sea had pounded the land not once but twice. Once through Clea's attack using Poseidon's trident, and then again as the vast Typhon fell into the waters fighting with the giant manifestation of the Spectre.

Safe beyond the reach of even these tumultuous waves, the Flash had carried the injured Green Lantern to the unsullied high ground.

Now it was Aquaman's turn to allow himself to be assisted. Johnny Quick took hold of him and applied his magic formula to achieve his incredible land-speed to air translation. Quick unlike the Flash didn't retain contact with the ground at his greater speed, his all out sprint launched them both skywards, into flight. However below the Flash had no problem maintaining the efficiency of his bee line, matching his fellow speedster's progress. That Arthur Curry could observe all this in the seconds it took to cross the Lost Land, said much about his own accelerated abilities. Both Speedsters and passengers arrived at the blackened crater that contained the Heart Stone simultaneously.

They briefly paused on the lip of the ancient hollow, observing the tragic scene of bodies in water, and the source of this newly formed lake. A great geyser of artesian water spouting skyward, a beautiful natural fountain, water pouring from amidst the Heart Stone itself. In the sky circling were the great aerial mounts of the Lost Land, lizard and mammals of Venturia and Auria.

"Aquaman. Is it truly Merlin?" Shouted Alan Scott.

The Sea King heard a question loaded with surprise, doubt and at the same time hope, emotions he shared. Arthur guessed by some arcane means the legendary Sorcerer had made the facts known to the Green Lantern, just as he had appeared to Superman and him. Aquaman's colleagues sought reassurance – confirmation from the Sea King.

"Yes. It is Merlin." Arthur responded. "I believe it." He rubbed his wet blond locks. "Can you do what he asks – without you we won't make it?"

Alan Scott nodded, and raised his uninjured arm. "I am better by the minute. Yes I can do it."

Arthur saw the Green Lantern stood steadied by the Flash. He swallowed his doubts. Across in the bay the vast Typhon roared, waves crashed from the titanic struggle onto the shore. Above them the sky over the lost land had begun to darken, to take on a purple hue. Lightning flashed. The barrier between worlds was being breached. Soon Atlantis would rise again in the midst of the ocean. There was no time. Aquaman now answered in action. Leaping upwards in a tremendous bound the powerful muscles of the Sea King carried him out across the blackened scorched landscape. Alighting on the flat uppermost face of the Heart Stone, now an island in fast rising lake. Aquaman skidded to halt across the slick wet glass like surface, grasping at the irregular ridges on the unpolished gem stone. All the time rain fell from the geyser of that drove the water high into the sky. He reached out for the crack which ran through the body of the Heart Stone. Finger wide, it was such a small fault, but big enough to rewrite the rules of Lost Land. From it water ran, fresh from some hidden aquifer.

Above him beat the wings of giant bats and pterosaurs, as the Ha-Mazon's, Venturian and Aurian, circled this sacred centre, adorned by the plume of escaping water. Aquaman's highly developed senses allowed him to see further and hear more clearly. The Sea King observed that the heat and fire was gone from the Atlantean's enchanted weapons, and also their hearts. Clea's selfishness, and Ultra's greed had broken them too. Now they just watched. The corpses around about the geyser served as a salutary warning.

Then joining the flyers Arthur recognised the distinctive cape of the Bat-Man, his dark serrated cloak fluttering behind as he rode the Aurian flying fox bat, holding the reins as a horseman might.

Aquaman's eyes saw through the water spout to the Trident of Poseidon. The adamant shaft three pronged fork was embedded in the glassy stone. Creating the dividing jagged crack. Woven around the spear danced tiny rainbows of seven coloured lights as a man might see in the spray of tumbling water.

Around the spear lay most of the fallen. Self sacrificed. Ha-Mazon's of both nations of the Lost Land of Atlantis, driven by the mythic imperative one after the other to suffer the same fate. Each greedy enough to believe that their hand could free the Trident, where their sisters had failed, but each had died, wishing to bind the old magic to them.

Merlin's instructions had sounded simple enough. These bodies told a different story.

Now in front of the Sea King was the reality of the Trident's power that now resonated with the force of the old magic that had sequestrated the Lost Land into a pocket universe, separating it from the real world. To touch the three-pointed spear was a death sentence.

Aquaman was aware the geyser was growing in strength. He imagined it beginning as a trickle. How simple it must have appeared to those first Warriors arriving here, how tempting to grab hold of the weapon of magical domination. However the geyser was growing in intensity with each passing moment. To any mortal the water plume in its current state would have presented an insurmountable obstacle. The raging torrent, the pressure of water would be a barrier, a wall to the grasping hand. Merlin had said to him "the Trident protects itself" in time Aquaman wagered the crater of the Heart Stone would fill, becoming a lake – submerging the magical talisman.

Aquaman's hands plunged through the stream of subterranean waters and his fingers grasped the three pronged spear. In that moment old power surged through him, but here and now it recognised Arthur Curry's right, just as Merlin had promised. Previously the Trident had rejected those who had dared to try, but not this man. Not the Sea King. With ease Arthur withdrew his own spear of destiny from the magical gem stone, at the same time riding skyward on the torrent of the geyser, Aquaman swam up up and away through crystal waters into the blue of the sky.

-'S'-

Tex Thompson had enjoyed the fantasy spectacle of the Thief of Bagdad Christmas of 1940, this film came to mind for a couple of reasons. Across the Venturian's Citadel wide harbour he watched the confrontation between the giant form of the Spectre which had grown from nothing to equal the immensity of the copper and god dragon of old, the Typhon. This Towering Titan made the fictional giant genie in the Thief of Bagdad appear small, less than Faye Wray in the hands of King Kong. Yet the Spectre like the Jin had altered his size radically, matching Ultra's immense vessel. The Avenging Angel struggled against the Typhon, halting Ultra's progress beyond the curving sea walls of the artificial bay. The waves generated by these two titans as they wrestled washed over the impressive sea defences and crashed around the base of the Citadel. The Tower City shook as the ground moved, such was consequences of this titanic struggle.

Robot Man had rested his smooth metallic hand on Tex Thompson's shoulder. "Mr America." Bob Crane said to him. "I would prevail on you for a ride."

It was odd to see a face of metal smile, and yet Robot Man was more than able to be present an amiable if unusual set of expressions along with his words, it was very human, while at the same time precise – like clockwork.

Flying with the Man of Metal presented a different kind of problem, carrying Aquaman had been straightforward enough, but put simply the Man of Metal was weightier. Whether it had been the climatic scenes of the Arabian adventure film or perhaps some silent prompt from the magical cloak itself, maybe both, that inspired Tex really did not matter. It worked – and the end result was very much like the flying carpet that had transported the Thief of Baghdad through the air. The red cloak responded to his touch and he and the Metal Man stepped aboard, and rode out across the turbulent sea.

The Typhon's vast wings were ensnared, pulled together by an invisible hand, causing the beast to tumble into the sea.

"That's Wonder Woman's Lasso." Robotman told him. "Superman has come to her aid. They are both pulling against the Typhon."

Thompson reasoned that Bob Crane's mechanically enhanced perception allowed the Metal Man to see these heroes, as yet too small the human eye to perceive. Even so Thompson was able to observe the consequence of their superhuman effort. The immense monster took a backwards step.

Moments earlier the flying heroes had taken to the air. Now Tex saw them, Hawk Man and Hawk Girl swept from above striking at the beast with Nth metal empowered weapons, the energy crackling from mace to the armoured carapace of the Typhon. With them the armoured frame of Pat Dugan whose fiery blasts from his arm mounted cannon ricocheted from the same orange gold hide of the beast. Superman and Wonder Woman held the four fold wings tight, the Typhon's tail splashed in the water, and Mr America could see the monsters of the deep snapping at the great serpent's body, here these most massive of aquatic fauna, huge lizards, fearsome fish, an huge cephalopods were like fry, tiny snapping creatures against the copper colossus. In truth every thing, even the Citadel was made small by comparison to the Typhon. Save one - the Spectre. The Avenging Angel held his ground, even as his translucent form was torn apart again and again by the lashing limbs of Ultra's monster.

All the while Atlantis was rising, returning to the real world. Darkening the sky deeper purple.

It was now that Robot Man launched himself into the water.

-'S'-

Alan Scott watched as the Sea King swept upwards through the tower of water, that now reached into the purple sky like the Citadel itself.

It was natural, given his job as a radio engineer that habitually his power ring monitored those air waves for information. Hearing the voice of Camelot's legendary mentor identify himself had raised many questions. Now as a clear water arch formed bridging the distance between the heart of the Lost Land and the Sea beyond the Citadel, the Green Lantern was reassured. He watched the geyser's waters obeying Aquaman, just as the waves had obeyed Clea. It was confirmation of the Wizard's assurances.

His doubts dispelled, he did not regret them, even in here, in Atlantis, the methodical engineer that was Alan Scott was certain he had been right to question the idea that Merlin was both real and still living.

The Green Lantern smiled, defying pain, as the emerald light coursed through him. It was both healing and revitalising, but it was a process non the less, and it took time. Time was something Merlin's plan didn't have in abundance, he could not be certain he was strong enough, that he had the capability but what he did have was a wealth of determination.

The Green Lantern redirected his power rings energies and now a green ghost-like figure, the Emerald Knight dived into the waters of the forming lake. Alan Scott ignored his injuries and dove toward the fractured Heart Stone. For a moment he wondered, this was old magic made solid, not some modern construction of men, but like a concrete wall always yielded to the power of the Lantern, so the diamond hard stone permitted him to pass inside.

Immersed into the fractured Heart Stone images and sensations assailed his mind, Alan Scott heard voices from the past and echoes of distant possible futures blended into a kaleidoscopic of images projected from every side, showing every possible angle of each moment, every one significant, although sometimes apparently mundane. A horse casts a shoe, a battle is lost. A blanket carries Small Pox to the new world. A frightened youth in the trenches of the great war becoming a passionate orator filled with ambition and hate, a Fuhrer. Machines rolled forward, an endless sea of mechanical death bringers, folding into the black of night, star filled sky, and space above and beyond. More machines like men in red and blue. Stranger and wilder, futuristic visions, different armadas of space craft rise and fall. Then an eclipse as a dark shadow passes before the sun. Falling now the Green Lantern concentrates all his will into the power ring, green light pierces the darkness, punctures the shadow of the mocking giant, deeper into the broken crystal.

Gods on a thousand worlds clash, laugh, procreate, create and destroy. New gods arise, old gods fall. Finally a bright flash an ending that was also a beginning, Ragnorok – god-wave.

Green light penetrates the darkness. Here in an extra-dimensional cell are his friends. Scott falls to his knee, blood runs from wounds reopened. "Gentlemen I have come to get you out of here."

-'S'-

Robot Man's feet operated like propellers allowing him to move through the water, beyond he could see the monsters of the deep attacking the tail and lower body of Ultra's immense Typhon body. The were like flies on a rhinoceros. He progressed at speed over to the assembled forces from Tritonis. At the head of the merman army swam their King. A Crowned bearded head on the barrel chested torso of Antonis.

Robot Man greeted at the aquatic army. In the hands of their Monarch and his two Generals were Tridents forged by the hand of Triton himself. Without a word the King of Tritonis handed the Man of Metal the same weapon that had shed Superman's blood, the same three-pointed spear that had sliced through the Sea Tigers high tensile plastic aluminium hull, the very material from which his own steel-like skin had been made. Taking the magical weapon in his hydraulically enhanced fingers Robot Man turned to where the belly of the Typhon splashed into the sea. The copper gold orange hide dipping in and out of the water. Now was his moment.

In the chaos and confusion of the Tritonis's King's attack. As the horde of the sea creatures bit and snapped at the monster. These massive denizens of the deep made small by the incredible Typhon vast carcass. It was now that the ever so tiny in comparison Metal Man, became a human-machine torpedo. Robot man swiftly propelled himself through the water, guided by sonar. He held the magic tridents god forged blades at the ready. Then in the second that the belly of the beast splashed orange into the water, the three-pointed spear struck in the hands of Robot Man, and sliced into the copper-gold scale armour of the machine monster.

Thrusting his hand into the wound, Robot Man observed the orange hide of the Typhon closing around the magic made cut, healing in an instant, healing around his fingers, his wrist, only bullet like speed had meant his hand had been able to penetrate the magical cut, but it was enough. Separating his arm from the trapped left hand at the wrist, the inverse of his assembly by Chuck Grayson. Robot man allowed himself to be driven back into the depths once more, leaving behind inside the great Typhon, a tiny portion of himself. An invisible spell in the now healed wound.

-'S'-

Riding on a wall of water Aquaman crossed the sea. Delivered to the waves by the geyser's arching bridge. He stood on the crest of a vast wave rising from the deep, in his hand the Sea King held a three pronged spear – the Trident of Poseidon.

Aquama's stance was Olympian. Then he hurled the three points at the monster's breast.

The Sea King was not alone. Three Magicians had been freed, along with the Aurian captives, released from the prison of the broken Heart Stone. Now these magical agents of justice came to the Sea King's aid against Ultra's immense vessel.

The spear flew straight and true, and all the while the magical Trident grew in size, clothed in the spray ocean blue, riding on the wind, wrapped in the golden ankh shaped energy of Doctor Fate, burning with the Red fire of Sargon, in the emerald hand of the Green Knight, in the purple of Gio Zatara.

The Trident passed through the body of Spectre as if the giant avenging angel were but smoke, the three-pointed spear fell true and fast plunging to the chest of the Typhon. So when the tri-pointed weapon stuck home it was no longer a tiny pin, but a lance consummate with the vast scale of the Typhon. Old magic struck old magic. Adamant thrice enchanted always to cut, never to lose it edge, and never to break struck orange gold hide, enchanted never to fail, never to break, never to be cut. Irresistible met immovable.

Water crashed around the Typhon passing through the void where the Spectre had been, the Avenging Angel was no longer present among them. There was only the crashing waves of an angry sea concentrated on the Typhon, as the waters around Venturia were brought to bare against the ancient serpent by the Trident's power. Mist rose from the waters, ice fell from the sky and the sea boiled around the twitching limbs.

Ultra roared and staggered.

Ultra let out a terrible scream. It seemed to rip apart the purple sky, as it tore from the lips of the Typhon's sculptured beautiful stolen face.

For a moment Aquaman believed. Then the realisation came, he saw with own eyes, that their plan had failed. The Trident was lodged in the outermost layers of the Typhons copper dermis, preternaturally sharp, magically resilient, three-points had struck and cut - but the cut had not been deep enough. Instead of finding the Typhons heart and splitting that infernal dynamo in twain, the irresistible force had found the middle way with the immovable object, travelling only half as deep as it must.

-'S'-

Deep with in the five fingers of Robot Man swam through the Typhon's hybrid anatomy. Like Bob Crane the monster was part machine – part living creature. Like Robot Man the Machine Monster had been a creation of the Heart Stone's old magic power. Suspended in the cool deep Robot Man had travelled with his lost hand. His mind present in both his body and the part he had left behind in the Typhon. The plastic metal adapting to the new environment. The journey had been slow at first, he had literally clawed his way deeper into the living mechanism. His fingers like knives, even surgeons scalpels. Then on entering what was an artery within the monster, the five fingered spider like probe was taken in the nutrient stream that constituted blood and hydraulic fluid within the chimera to the heart of the matter. Robot Man witnessed the Trident of Posideon strike, the blow falling short, caught by the magical healing flesh of the Typhon construct. Crawling over the surface of the alien Hyperion reactor core, it's surface patched with the living construction material bred by the Annunki in the subterranean world, he vainly scratched on the adamant surface, cutting the reptilian living machine repairs only to watch them heal themselves almost instantly. Robot Man struck out for the surface.

-'S'-

Superman and Wonder Woman together held the Amazon Princesses golden unbreakable rope. Fastened around the Typhons wings, they kept the beast restrained, inch by inch, almost imperceptibly they had dragged the monster back. All the while Superman felt his strength returning. He knew his limits, and this was an impasse. Looking out back toward the Citadel he saw rising above the water the three wise mages. Doctor Fate flew leading, surrounded by golden light, Sargon and Zatara rode upon the Aurian flying foxes. With them came the Bat-Man and Mercy, together on one of the winged beasts.

The the Spectre vanished as Aquaman struck with his god-given weapon.

"The Trident – has it hit the target?" The Dark Knight called out. His winged mammal swept above them, and the spray from the sea below.

Robot man receiving information from his hand broadcast a message to Superman even as the Bat-Man and the Magicians arrived. The Man of Tomorrow heard the radio signal from Bob Crane, and understood the seriousness of their situation at once. Calling back to the Mages, and to the Bat-Man, he told them. "The Spear has fallen short."

Ultra turned the Typhons vast head, adorned with golden Kraken, it was like a long oval crown, Ultra heard them and with a voice like thunder mocked Superman and his friends, saying. "I am hurt, I feel pain, but I am not defeated." Then between clenched teeth, the vast creatures voice became less thunderous, but all the more menacing. "That which does not kill you makes you stronger."

Raising one of its four limbs Ultra touched the adamant lance that rested between the twin mounds that suggested breasts. Grasping the enlarged magic weapon.

"And now I lay claim to the Trident of Poseidon." Ultra laughed. The human face of the Typhon was alive with avarice.

"Diana." Superman said. He did not say anything more, he didn't need to. The Amazon braced herself as he let go. Wonder Woman took the weight of the colossal monster alone.

Superman fell from the sky, back to the monster. He dived, twisting and falling around the stricken Typhon. Ultra's monster, sank into the water stalled, it's wings still bound by the golden lariat of Wonder Woman, as Ultra pulled at the Trident's enlarged shaft. Superman drove toward the vast three-pointed lance. A tiny flash of red and blue. The blunt end of the magically enlarged Trident was a vast circle of polished metal, and the Man of Steel was almost imperceptible beside it.

Superman in that fraction of a second remembered something his Pa had said to him on the farm. "Clark when your only tool is a hammer, it's easy to think of every problem as a nail."

When it came to magic in it's many diverse and complicated forms Superman knew what he had, what he was, a hammer; an expression of brute force, refined and forged by science millions of years more evolved than mortal man might yet imagine, but still purely physical. The man from Smallville also remembered what Alfie Jones had added. "Clark sometimes just hitting it helps." Superman brought the hammer of his being to bare.

"Put your back into it." Said Jonathan Kent, speaking from his memory, as the Man of Steel flew again into the Adamant shaft, a natural hammer blow. His shoulder slammed into the vast Trident, and just like a hammer driving a nail he drove the Trident deeper.

Ultra roared "No!"

The Typhons arms tried to strike Superman, but from above came the golden ankhs of Doctor Fate, fire from Sargon and a blinding mist from Zatara. In the confusion the flying man moved at speed, striking the shaft again and again, so many times in a split second, that each small movement combined to make difference.

Beyond in these active seconds from Doctor Fate's helm came the bass voice of Magic Master, the man imbued with the spirit and power of Sage Nabu – a message to the heroes, to the Citadel, to Venturia and Auria, to the Lost Land of Atlantis itself.

"Shield your eyes."

The command was an imperative. Like a blow to the knee reaction – obedience was automatic as reflex.

As together the Magicians triad wielded their incredible abilities in unison. From Fate, Zatara and Sargon came sorcery. Not against the Typhon, but to Superman.

Bursting around the Man of Tomorrow was fire, a brilliance like a second sun, as magical energy caused the air around him to burn. It the midst of this ever so brief inferno Superman became invigorated.

Superman struck again and again. Where magic had failed to drive the supernaturally sharp, hard, and resistant blades deep enough, the mechanical hammer blows of a being not of the Earth, not even of this universe, a man without magic, but in possession of super powers, drove the Trident towards the Typhon's alien engine.

"I see the blades." Robot man told Superman. "I see them, they are against the monsters heart – the Hyperion Generator."

With the next blow the three points struck home, just as the last wisps of bright flame like the sun dissipated.

The Typhon staggered, the face of Lois Lane of Delores De Winters, of Sally Norris rendered forty stories high in gold became a wide eyed mask of surprise.

Superman past the enlarged magical Trident, through the cracked carapace, he could at last see into the vast bosom of the beast, and to its artificial heart. There the hand of Robot Man continued remote surgery. Scalpel sharp fingers slid between the broken Hyperion Reactor wall.

Superman watched as drone limb cut deftly as surgeon, severing connections. Robert Crane's metamorphosis into a chimera of man and machine had enabled the scientist. In understanding his own magical genesis, the workings of his cybernetic physiology, this provided the knowledge and the wherewithal to execute this mission. To shut down the Typhon, to deprive Ultra of his vast vessel of devastation, and destroy the construct. To cause an over load in biomechanical Hyperion Generator.

"Not again!" Ultra wailed. The scream rocked the Citadel.

Superman still glowing from his baptism of sun-fire, grasped the cylinder protruding from the Typhon's breast. Like an ant grabbing the shaft of spear made for a man, so was the Metropolis Marvel's scale, as he held onto the magically enlarged Trident of Poseidon.

Everything came down to this.

Superman turned in the air as an Olympian athlete might hurl a hammer in the field. So it was the vast beast lifted from the water, sea monsters dropping from its twitching tale and belly. The Typhon rose up at the end of the Trident, lifted by the glowing speck of dust, who was like a fiery diamond against the purple angry sky. The mighty Man of Tomorrow hefted Ultra's colossus away from him and past the Towering Citadel.

Now it was Wonder Woman moment alone.

Diana let her lasso feed through her fingers, like a golden fishing line, and at its end, a whale of a catch, the impossibly vast Typhon.

Riding on the air currents above the shore, she alighted, her feet touching the green of the Venturian Plain.

"Hera Help me." She said as she dug into the dark the earth with her heels. Connecting with this remnant of the Earth – of Gaia, drawing strength from it. Diana tensed and with perfect timing yanked the unbreakable lariat. The Amazon Princess screamed in rage and determination, as she braked the Typhons flight, and the golden lasso cracked loudly, arrested, then released the beast.

Flaying the vast monster fell, splashing down as the plan demanded into partially flooded crater, and onto the fractured Heart Stone itself.

-'S'-

"Ten, nine, eight..." Robot Man was broadcasting counting. The signal was played through the Green Lantern's power ring.

Alan looked to Slam Bradley. He and the Sand Man had remained behind giving up their mounts to Sargon and Zatara, allowing the Magicians to fly with Fate to Superman's aid.

"Ready?" The Emerald Knight asked.

"Hell yes. If this means we win, save the day _and_ can be rid of this magic nonsense – then let's get on with it." Bradley replied.

The Man in violet nodded, as together they joined hands. Bradley's body reacted, it was instinctive, Alan's ring knew it too. From the big man violet power flowed into the Green Lantern's emerald jewel. In a moment all the energy Bradley had absorbed accidentally during his journey to the Lost Land of Atlantis poured into the Green Lantern. Old Magic from the Heart Stone via the Portal.

Bradley's borrowed Indigo Cloak flashed bright for a heartbeat, then dissipated into nothingness, like a mist in the wind. Yet the consequences of this exchange of primal energies were dramatic. Emerald light poured forward from the power ring on Alan Scott's finger. A bright circle of fire, growing and expanding in flash of green light. Capping the Crater in vast dome of translucent green. Alan willed it so, with all his being, creating a sphere of energy that encircled the vast beast within, both the Typhon and the Heart Stone were swallowed up into this green glassy container.

The Typhon squirmed within, all it's might constrained.

Alan stood his ground. Slam beside him was supporting, but his part – the sharing of his strange violet energy, had past. Bradley had energised – amplified the Green Lanterns power ring, how exactly this was possible Alan Scott was not certain, but that same violet light had saved the Private Detective, transporting him from certain death to safety. That same power he had gladly relinquished now made the last part of Merlin's plan possible.

Clearly these powers were connected, Scott however had not time to think or question. He had to stand and concentrate. To will his wish into reality and hold the containment field in place. If he failed then he and everyone around him, possibly even the entire Lost Land of Atlantis would be destroyed.

His purple cape billowed, the fearful yellow emblem of the magic lantern was brilliant, the red of his shirt fiery, the green of his stout legs bright fixed with grim determination, his pain from his injuries was written in his face as the blood stains and tears marked in his costume. Beads of sweat formed on his brow.

"Three, two, one." Robot Man's radio transmission continued and ended. The explosion did not come.

From within the green energy field the roar of the Typhon echoed once more. "Do you think I'm a fool." Ultra laughed.

"Did you really think that I couldn't heal myself – repair a broken Hyperion Engine?"

The Typhon was laughing, the bass echoed through the ground shaking the Plains of Venturia, and the Forests of Auria.

"He's stabilised the Hyperion reactor." Robot Man transmitted through Alan's Power Ring. "My hand has been neutralised. I can't break it free again. Some defensive mechanism, swallowed – grown around my hand, as fast as I cut, it regenerates."

"Can you hold Ultra?" Slam asked him.

"I don't know." The Green Lantern admitted. "I can only operate a containment field of this strength for a short time. If the plan is to work, we've got to blow that infernal engine in that monster's body soon, or else..."

Alan was interrupted by the roaring of the Typhon.

"Twice today I have done this." Ultra said pushing against the green containment bubble. "Once when I recreated the Typhon I healed the damaged Hyperion Generator within the Kraken, I prevented the seed of my new body being destroyed as you all expected - and so I have done the same trick again." Ultra laughed. "You and your friends must think me a fool Superman, if you thought I'd allow you to defeat me the same way again. That I would perish in the fire of my own engine's explosion."

The Green Lantern leant against Slam Bradley, the big man kept Alan on his feet, kept his arms raised, but with every word spoken the Typhon was pushing against the green dome, even deforming it.

"I have escaped from the Green Lantern's Light once already too." Ultra stated. "It seems Superman the fools are you and your friends, doomed to repeat your mistakes.

"And I am fated to win."

-'S'-

"No!"

Superman heard the shout. He spied the form of Cyclotron flashing across the sky, a luminescent star visible against the blue sky.

Last he knew Terry Curtis had been in the Atom's care, along with Navy men and the civilians by the Portal in the ruined Temple of Ares. Clearly the superhuman had left the Citadel.

His speed was impressive, his target unmistakable. His anger – his direction was at Ultra. Ultra had played him, abused him, and blackmailed him. Kidnapped his daughter, threatened her life. Terry Curtis was man bent on vengeance.

Cyclotron breached the Emerald Barrier, and passed through it like diver into water. Superman for a moment wondered how it was possible. Then he reflected Alan was concentrating on keeping the Typhon inside the dome, not preventing something or someone like Cyclotron entering.

The ground shook with a roar of anger, as the Typhon's mouth expressed Ultra's surprise at being joined within the green prison of solid light. "What are you.. No..."

The flash of light that followed the Typhon's denunciation was very bright, brilliant even through the translucent green energy shield, without this protective sphere Superman had no doubt that this explosion would have been blinding to human eyes.

For the second time the Lost Land had a second artificial sun.

The ground shook, again the emerald containment sphere did it's work, mitigating what would have been an incredible release of energy. Then it and everything and everyone it had contained was gone.

Then Alan collapsed, if only because Bradley fell, the Sandman caught them both as best he could, and laid them on the ground.

The crater which had contained the Typhon, that had been encircled by the Green Lantern's containment field was changed, what had been a partial lake, was gone, what had been scorched earth was consumed. It was bare rock now, melted and metamorphosed by heat and pressure. Glowing red like hot coals, but more importantly, Merlin's secret promise had come true, the destruction of the Typhon had been an healing act. For at the heart of the land once again was single gem stone – the Heart Stone of Atlantis had been fused together whole once more.

Superman looked skyward, the dark foreboding purple angry sky was already changing, turning blue and bright. The Lost Land was slipping back into the pocket universe that had been created to contain it. No longer would this fragment of Atlantis threaten the real world.

Diana came to his side.

"What happened Superman?" She asked.

"Terry Curtis happened." He told her. "I saw it all. He exploded himself, like some great bomb."

Diana nodded clearly stunned by the enormity of this.

"He dived into the wound we made with Trident of Poseidon." Superman continued. "That first explosion – his explosion, as great as it was, acted like a detonator, the Typhon's artificial heart was ripped apart and then exploded itself, Ultra couldn't prevent it, and that explosion was many times greater again."

"Which in turn reforged the broken Heart Stone." Diana observed.

"As Merlin said it would." Superman replied.

"We did it Kal." She smiled, taking his hand. "Look at what we did."

Superman did look, he squeezed her fingers tight. She alone could appreciate his strength of feeling as expressed in touch.

As they flew together back to the Citadel, the devastation to Venturia was extensive, from the battle with the Tyhpon and the crashing waves, that fight generated, to the hand to hand conflicts between the Ha-Mazon's. Even to the broken and burned American Submarine – the Sea Tiger. Every victory in war had its blood price.

He was not surprised when Diana seemed to understand his misgivings, she was very adept at reading his emotions.

"Kal the Lost Land is free of Clea, the Ha-Mazon's of Venturia are free of her cruel rule, and Auria the threat she represented. The Trident of Poseidon is gone, swallowed up in the explosion along with the greatest of all monsters the Typhon. The Lost Land is where the gods decided it should be, back in it's own reality – not threatening to emerge into ours."

Below them was the tower city, and mid way the ruined Temple of Ares.

They alighted inside, coming to stand close by the all important Portal. It was here their friends and colleagues either waited, or as time past the others returned. Among them the Bat-Man, and Mercy. Also the Green Lantern, the Sandman and Slam Bradley, now just shirtless, his violet cloak having been lost. Tex Thompson too came riding back to them aboard his red cloak.

"So much has changed. Not just here, but to us – to our people." Superman told the Princess. "Look at Bob Crane." He pointed to Robot Man who was stood with Pat Dugan, they were comparing bio-mechanical technology of Crane's new body with the machinery of the armour Stripes wore, driven as it was by Power Stone.

The Lost Land could once again use the latter principal to power its technology. The reconstituted Heart Stone broadcast invisible energies to the various Atlantean devices and artificial lights burned once again in the Citadel and beyond.

Diana nodded. "I see his left hand Robot Man lost to Ultra, is growing – if that is the right word."

Superman looked at the stump, at the shoot of metal that rather hook like protruded from Robot Man's wrist. "Assembled perhaps - or some word that mixes the two up."

Diana's nose wrinkled with a laugh. "Growembling?" She said.

Superman joined her, it was good even now in this ruin perched on the Citadel, to take time to laugh. Diana was right, there was much to celebrate, despite the destruction and death. He was sure the Ha-Mazon's could rebuild now they Heart Stone was whole once again.

"I learned through my lasso." Diana began. "From Clea's thoughts that Ultra promised her the Hyperion Reactor in the Kraken."

"I see." Superman noted. "I guess as alternative source of power."

"Exactly once she broke the Heart Stone, she broke everything." Diana noted. Adding. "Although that was what Clea believed. That the Kraken's reactor could somehow replace the Heart Stone, I doubt Ultra ever meant to honour that pact.

"I believe Ultra's intention was always to raise the Typhon once more. Ultra was too greedy for power to have given up the Kraken's ancient engine."

Lois Lane and Doleres De Winters joined them. Lois had the young child Terri Curtis in her arms.

"She is an orphan now." Dee Dee told them as Wesley Dodds approached.

"Her father died a hero." Superman said. He smiled warmly at Lane. This was a side of Lois he had never seen before. She appeared almost broody. He dare not suggest it, but he thought motherhood suited her.

"And she is not alone in the world. This war," Diana gestured to the captured Nazi's – and Axis allies, threatens to make many more orphans – and many more heroes like Terry Curtis."

"No greater love." The Sand Man noted. "Than to lay down your life for your friends."

"Terry Curtis certainly redeemed himself – redeemed Cyclotron." Lois added.

Superman looked out to where Doctor Fate worked with Gio Zatara and John Sargent – Sargon the Sorcerer, worked with the Portal. Healing the broken Heart Stone of the Lost Land also meant the Doorway between this realm and their Earth could be reopened. It's power source returned. In due course, and soon, Superman knew they all could at last return home to the real world.

Out in the sea the forces from Tritonis were processing back to the aquatic portal that their undersea city guarded. King Antonis had done his duty to his gods, and his oath. Without him Superman reflected evil would have won the day. With them was Aquaman. His choice was to swim his own way home.

Shortly the Magicians were successful. Tapping the energies of the newly reforged Heart Stone, Fate, Zatara and Sargon together opened the portal to the Los Angeles Underground.

As the great Iron Doors swung open once more revealing the dark purple mists of the inter dimensional rift Superman wondered what kind of world waited for them on the other side. Time travelled more quickly relative to the real world here in the lost land, and as the Heroes entered that gate between worlds Superman reflected that if his maths were correct, at least he would be home for Christmas.


	84. Chapter 84

**1943. Prologue**

_December 1942_. Below the bleachers of Stagg Field at the University of Chicago in a disused American Racquets court, forty persons of note waited. Enrico Fermi was centre of this radical piece of scientific theatre. He headed his team of researchers, as together they instigated a nuclear chain reaction at Chicago Pile-1, the first man made nuclear reactor. Before the dignitaries the young scientist George Weil places the final control rod, while Fermi watches carefully.

Arthur Compton picks up the phone and dials. In Washington James Conant, Chairman of the National Defence Research Committee answers.

"The Italian Navigator has landed." Compton says.

Conant hears the enigmatic statement. He pauses and asks. "How were the natives?"

"Everyone landed safe and happy." Compton replies.

Moments later the coded message was relayed to the Oval Office, and onto the Resolute Desk.

At seven minutes before four PM, Fermi shuts down the experiment.

His calculations had been sound, there had been no runaway chain reaction or catastrophic explosion. The principle of an Atomic bomb is proven.

Chicago was a teeming metropolis of concrete and steel whereas Themyscira was an island paradise, a garden of beauty and a reserve of nature red in tooth and claw, both natural and supernatural. Made by the gods for a purpose. Themyscira hung above a deep dark pit. Dooms Door – the gateway to the underworld of Hades.

Defending this portal between worlds from outsiders; the barbarians of Man's World, and hellish creatures from within pit was the Amazon's purpose. In their isolation they kept the peace. Today the Seer Menalipe's eyes were turned inwards as in her mind she travelled beyond. Through the heavens above and to the Patriach's World crossing the mystic veil that separated the invisible isle from the lands of men.

Today a scream of anguish and fear, crossed her lips, shattering the silence of still Temple courts.

The ancients taught; that which is Below corresponds to that which is Above, and that which is Above, corresponds to that which is Below.

Change one and change the other.

Meanlippe's cry was carried outwards by means of the incredible Amazon Mental Radio. A message seeking the Champion of the Olympian, the Amazon Ambassador, Diana, Princess and Wonder Woman.

Diana was a world away – separated by time and space from her sisters.

Time past. The call was not diminished. It did not fall or pass away.

It was patient.

Then as Christendom readied itself for the celebrations of a baby's birth, lost heroes returned from another place, a pocket universe, crossing the void between worlds.

It was Menalippe's tears that greeted Diana as she returned to real time and the Los Angeles Underground. Into the subterranean lair of the defeated avatar of the Ultra Humanite.

Doctor Occult had joined agents of Alsos into the chamber, and along with him they greeted the returning adventurers from the Lost worlds of Venturia and Auria.

Among them was Colonel Lane. His presence belying the body language of his stern military bearing. He looked like a soldier. He was a worried a father, even if he didn't show it.

Applause broke out among these soldiers in uniform. The Portal crackled and spat flaring arcs of energy. From the open Iron gate walked men in uniform, men in colours. Cheers greeted the Justice Batallion's return. As she stepped through the gate Diana heard a familiar voice.

"The god of war rises." The Amazon Seer announced. "Mars is ascendant."

At the same moment Menalippes warning reached her, a bright light shone across the rocky chamber. It was Doctor Fate. The Magic Master rose from the concrete floor toward her.

Wonder Woman heard, saw, and gasped and fell. A strong hand caught her before she struck to the ground.

"Diana what is wrong." Superman asked.

She knew that his incredible vision powers could not perceive what an Amazon witnessed by the wonder of Mental Radio. Menalippe's message had been sent to Diana's mind alone.

Could Doctor Fate understand it too?

Diana had frequently used the Mental Radio to call home to the Queen and her Amazon sisters. Also talking to the likes of Etta Candy, even Captain Trevor.

Yet this Mental Radio message was so very different to those.

Wonder Woman realised she couldn't answer Superman's question. Her breath was taken away. In this moment the Amazon Princess found herself in another place. It was a meeting of minds. Across the Mental Radio's mystical connection, images sounds and emotions were loaded down into Diana's consciousness. With Menalippe sharing her transcendental experience, Diana was transported into another real of consciousness.

The Seer saw beyond the physical, and she carried Diana with her – into the Astral plain. The first six heavens. Here Wonder Woman saw so many ghosts. Not of Christmas past – but of Christmas present. The world at war reflected as if through a hexagonal looking glass.

Phantom armies rose to fight alongside their Princes, as nation met nation above and below.

The astral world was an image of the physical. A portrait painted by the wants and desires of the living, and like any true work of art the Astral rendered the world not in photographic realism but in a representative impression. It was a dream world. So the world of the Astral was as a surreal as a painting by Dali.

Here Diana saw Ares growing stronger with every bullet, and every bomb, with the blood of the valiant and the innocent. Wonder Woman saw in his red eyes a fire like the sun. It was a hunger for destruction, as the Seer had foretold. Ares sensed the sea change, as the dark waters of the Astral Plain shifted beneath the giant's feet. Responding in kind to the power of Atom. The god of bloodshed reached out. His arm maimed, his hand missing above the wrist, the bleeding stump held out almost pleading. Wonder Woman understood him, Ares longed for his lost grip on the business of War.

"Diana?" Superman asked. His voice cut through the mystic mist.

"She's in a trance." Bruce said, his gravel edged voice a whisper in the background.

Wonder Woman's eyes were firmly looking upwards as if into her own skull.

"Breathing is irregular, heavy." Superman answered. "Diana?" He tried again.

"Kal." She answered. Her back arched in his arms. Breathless, she gasped. Then grabbing the Batman's armoured wrist she hauled herself upright, and away from Superman.

"Ares rises." She told them. "Untold Bloodshed." Then remembering herself she added. "I'm fine."

Stepping back she stood to her full height.

"It looked like it." Gotham's Dark Detective noted. By her side was Superman. A warm hand took hold of her shoulder.

"Diana – whatever is going on?" Superman asked.

He was concerned, yet how to begin to describe what she had seen? It was like describing a chaotic dream.

Before she could answer the light that emanated from the hands of Doctor Fate grew brighter still. The golden glow so intense that the Batman ducked under his cape, raising it to his face as he and others were forced to shield their eyes. Superman stared on, he wore a concerned frown.

Diana's eyes were able to cut through the glare, she saw Kent Nelson's fingers were locked onto the Helm of Nabu. Doctor Fate appeared at war with himself.

From Fate came a voice deep and ominous, ancient. "I must step forward."

"NO!" Kent shouted.

From the ranks of the waiting personal a young woman ran forward. Her arm pressed across her eyes. Even so Diana recognised the pretty features of Inza, Kent Nelson's wife. "It's Nabu, he's trying to take over." Inza cried out.

Doctor Occult acted. He reached into his coat pocket, then extended his hand. Wonder Woman saw in his grasp a disc inscribed with a 'cross pattée', a cross whose arms narrow at the centre and broaden at the perimeter. Light wheeled from this disk, a vortex of spectral colours, intersecting the fiery ankh symbol that had all but engulfed the blue gold figure of Fate.

Diana saw that Kent Nelson and this burning ankh were quickly embraced by Occult's four armed symbol. Strengthened the mortal hands of the archaeologist opened up the Helm of Nabu. The bottom half detached from previously uniform shell of golden metal, opening along an invisible seam until the Helm parted into two sections. With the lower half the long golden cloak disappeared shrinking into the closed fist of Nelson. The brightness was gone.

Fate fell to the floor, dropping into a crouch on one knee, before rising to his feet once more. His face was partially revealed. The remaining half helm covered his hair and eyes.

"I'm all right." Kent Nelson said, his voice his own. Inza embraced him.

Doctor Midnite took Fate's pulse pressing his fingers to the now exposed skin of Nelson's neck.

The atmosphere in the liberated bunker changed from celebration to an ominous silence.

Heads turned expectedly, eyes full of questions.

Diana wondered if Doctor Fate's internal conflict was tied directly to Menalippes warning. To the battle being fought on the Astral plain above, just as the war was below.

"Since the Nazi's brought into being the olden god Wotan, the spirit and the power of the Wizard Nabu that permeates Helm of Fate as become increasingly assertive." Kent Nelson explained.

"To the point of trying to take over?" The Bat-Man concluded.

"A form of possession." Doctor Occult joined them, his magic disc returned to his coat pocket. Occult then explained. "Doctor Fate through the Helm glimpses the possible futures – history yet to be written, possibilities that rest often on single event or personality. The difference between defeat and victory..."

"For the sake of a nail the Kingdom was lost." Doctor Midnite interjected.

"Precisely." Occult agreed.

"Many of the futures K..." Inza began to say, before correcting herself, aware of the mixed personal present. "I mean Fate." She said. "The things he saw - well they're terrible. Full of fear and evil things." She told them.

"Images of the Astral Plain. The Ghost War."

"They're kidding – aren't they Batman?" Robin asked. Beside him the svelte Mercy crossed her arms. "I don't think so." She said to the Boy Wonder.

"Nazi's and their Black Magic?" The Atom asked. To which Inza nodded.

"My esteemed colleague Doctor Occult is right. I'm too weak." Kent Nelson admitted.

"You're only human." Occult said to him. "No man can glimpse the horrors you have seen and not feel fear. You have borne this burden bravely."

Doctor Fate sighed, saying. "But that fear is the problem. Through the Helm of Nabu such fear manifests itself as the Wizard, it takes on his personality – just as ghost of the Ultra Humanite took bodily form, so this fearful ghost of Nabu seeks to take my flesh, my life..."

"You won." Inza said kissing his cheek.

"At great cost." Doctor Fate said, his voice bitter."

"What is it?" Superman asked.

"I have tried to hang on, for as long as I could." Fate said. "With the Helm halved, so the power of Nabu is halved. I am no longer as powerful as I once was." Kent Nelson told the Man of Steel. "Just when we need all of that power."

"But." Inza said to Fate. Tears in her eyes. "You are yourself."

"There was something Wotan was keeping from me, some thing very terrible – very evil, I saw trains, people in freight cars like cattle. I can't see them now, they're gone."

Fate shook and lent on his wife.

"Hush now." Inza warned. "You have spent your strength."

Superman turned to Diana. "Wonder Woman – Did you see Wotan too?"

"I saw Ares, seeking his lost hand." Diana replied thinking how best to answer him. "I mean that's the vision my sister Menalippe shared with me. How it is connected with Doctor Fate – with Wotan... I'm not sure."

"Perhaps the two things – these two wizards past and present, and Ares – Mars, this War, are connected." Superman suggested.

Diana nodded. "That is my suspicion.

Superman's frown deepened. Both he and the Bat-Man though so very different had this much in common, an instinctive distrust of magic, and for good reason, she thought.

The Man of Steel looked at them and said. "As my Pa would say, out of the skillet and into the fire."

-'S'-

The oil lamp shone in the tented Field Command. Major General Alexander Patch, sometimes Sandy to his friends reviewed the Top Secret file on his desk. Christmas had come and gone. Just another day here on Guadalcanal. It rained, and the bloody business of war, democracy versus tyranny had continued regardless. Still the Marines had tried to make the best of it with a turkey dinner despite the shelling from the Japanese positions.

Sandy read the enclosed transcript stamped in red, Top Secret. It was from the offices of the Office of Strategic Services, it was titled 'Justice Battalion'.

After a long moment of reflection he looked up. "Better show him in." Patch said to his Chief of Staff. Brigadier General Sebree. The tall man gestured with his signature baton to a Marine. The guardsman exited the canvas office.

Patch had in December 1942 taken command of over fifty thousand men, their orders were to drive the enemy from Guadalcanal. Across the air strip, Henderson Field, lay the Japanese Imperial forces. Entrenched in the jagged collection of peaks called Mount Austen, or as they called it here on the ground, Grassy Knoll. That was gallows humour. There was no green and pleasant rolling field. Instead rising over them were ravines and rocky peaks clad in huge palm leaves, ferns, jagged banana plants, elephant-ears of the Taro, all clung to the rise and fall of the land. A solid wall of vegetation, in places a hundred feet high.

"So I'm to address you as the Sandman?" Patch asked the man stood to attention before him.

"Sir. Yes Sir."

"You come to me highly recommended Soldier." Patch looked the unorthodox marine up and down. At first glance he passed for a man in uniform. The dark military green augmented by deep purple mask and detailing. He wore a heavy utility belt, sported bulging extra pockets, and holstered a strange pair of guns. His face was hidden behind a cowl and a close fitting tin type hat. Around his neck hung a compact gas mask. He was a secret operative in plain sight.

"I'm told you've already been busy."

The Sandman remained to attention. He nodded.

"At ease Soldier." Patch said. "This command is grateful. By foiling a Japanese incursion in the early hours you saved a good many lives."

"Thank you Sir. Sorry I didn't have time to defuse all the bombs."

Patch nodded. "Never mind that, it could have been a great deal worse.

"Our adversary is hungry, his supplies are low, and the Navy – God Bless them, is making sure they stay that way."

At sea the Navy had made resupply of these islands almost impossible, and that was another battlefield. One of so many across the world.

"Backed into a corner." The masked man noted.

The General agreed. "Exactly – and that's when they get desperate. Necessity being the mother of invention, and being a woman, necessity is a bitch."

The Major General reflected on the loss of aircraft. "Like I said, it could have been a lot worse." He stated. "A lot worse. It wasn't thanks to you.

"Five P-39's lost, versus several hundred tonnes of ordnance and several hundreds of thousands of gallons of high-octane fuel."

The Sandman nodded. "Thank you sir, only wish we'd been quicker. Got to defuse the charges on those birds too."

"You're not Superman." Sandy said. "And even Superman can't be everywhere."

Patch paused before sharing his conclusions with the President's very special agent.

"These incursions behind our lines represent an unacceptable risk to Henderson Field."

The Mystery Man nodded. It was as if the Sandman was expecting this. "You mean to secure Mount Austen."

The General nodded. "There's going to be a heavy butchers bill I fear."

The Sandman nodded. "What can I do?"

"Keep the enemy off our backs as our guys press forward. The Jungle offers cover, camouflage and opportunity for commando style operations, and the enemy has no qualms about engaging in what are suicide missions.

"However you're role is in the shadow war – apparently you possess certain abilities in this field. Dammed if I can get my head around this voodoo stuff. Men can fight men, bullet to bullet, bayonet to bayonet, but hocus pocus – black magic..." Patch felt on uncertain ground. The island was thick mud, bad enough for men and machines, but this supernatural stuff might as well be quicksand. "Well I'd never believed it – not even in my wildest dreams."

"Don't worry sir." The Sandman said. "If the Jap's have any Weapons of Magical Domination, I'm sure I'll get to know about them, let's just say my dreams _are_ that wild."

Patch forced a laugh. You had to try. "Great. Let's keep this business as quiet as we can."

"Discretion at all times Sir – Guaranteed. With the Sandman around, you can rest assured. That's a promise."

-'S'-

Diana Prince waited in line. Millionaire, or lowly government employee, Princess, or Women's Axillary Army Corps Secretary, in Washington DC you queued. War had brought three hundred thousand people to the Nations Capital.

Diana took advantage of this time to order her thoughts. As ever locating the Hand of Mars remained of up most importance, all the more so given Menalippe's vision, but so far the trail of the Mad Red Monk had gone very cold. She did not doubt Wotan still sought the Fist of Ares for his Fuhrer.

"Woo Woo" Etta Candy said with false but determined enthusiasm in the southern drawl that identified her. Together both gal's wore the uniform emblazoned, fittingly Diana thought, with a badge showing a golden bust of Athena. The irrepressible Texan also modelled an infectious smile, despite the hunger that lunch time brought, that and the smell of fresh pie wafting from inside Scholl's Colonial Cafeteria, Connecticut Avenue.

It was with the smell of fruit pie still fresh in her mind, that Diana entered the new Pentagon building. The paint still fresh on the walls of its seventeen and a half miles of corridor. A triumph of design, the worlds largest office building, and yet a man could walk between two points anywhere in the building in around seven minutes. In truth it was a town in it's own right. Almost thirty acres in size. Construction had taken a remarkable sixteen months. The headquarters of the United States military was to be Lieutenant Diana Princes's new working address.

Steve Trevor's face was a picture of desperation masked by a practised smile. Diana forgave his duplicity. As a man he suffered from the inherent faults of his gender. The Amazon Princess was predisposed to forgive these weaknesses, for Captain Trevor was nothing if not brave and determined. Furthermore as an agent of the Office of Strategic Services – a spy, deception was a necessary tool of his trade. He did not disappoint.

"Oh hi Di." He said. Off hand he turned and flipped through his papers, paused in the door to his Office. Looking up he asked. "Good Lunch?"

"Long queue." Diana replied taking her seat. Watching the blond officer through her large glasses.

"In Washington right now the two are inseparable." She added.

Trevor folded closed the manilla file. He turned away, then he said. "Have you heard of the Crimson Flame."

Diana paused for a split second and sifted through her memories, page by page Newspapers flashed through her minds eye, radio broadcasts played over the images. Faster than Trevor could notice she ordered the reports – Priestesses. Eastern Mystery and Magic. The Divine Feminine.

"I believe they have meeting place along Connecticut Avenue." Diana replied. "I think the Washington Post carried an article a few weeks back. Would you like me to get you that?" She looked up from her type writer to measure Steve's reaction.

"What do you remember?" Steve asked.

"As I recall the Post wrote something about the Crimson Flame being a new and fast growing religion, unusual in that women take the role usually take by men as Priests. I got the impression the writer thought it all quite silly."

The Captain's face indicated he thought otherwise. "I found myself reminded of that other lot, they were big in Metropolis and New York for a while."

"The Temple of Light." Diana interjected. This was a troubling idea. Surely she instinctively thought a religion that celebrated the Divine Feminine must be naturally peaceful and benign.

Diana waited for Steve's slower mental process to complete. Thinking he must be mistaken; it is his job to be suspicious. Second thoughts she reflected, as is mine.

Remembering the wrath of Wotan's Dark Angel Valkyrie, Diana reminded herself evil came in many guises, some of them female. She glanced at her collar motif. Athena's profile a visible reminder to be wise in all things.

"Come with me Diana." Steve said a moment later, tossing the file onto his desk through the open office door, he led her toward the Pentagon's Mall Entrance and into a reception lounge.

"This is Miss Armstrong." Steve introduced Diana to the young blonde, who was seated with coffee.

Expensively dressed, sporting a fine hat, she offered her hand. "Pleased to meet you Lieutenant Prince." There was in her bearing a confidence that wealth and security bought, and yet Diana saw in her fear, the spirit of the hunted.

"Helene's father is Senator Armstrong. He sits on Military Intelligence Committee on the Hill."

Diana nodded. Such was Man's world, a network of known names. Each helping one another stay ahead. "Helene, I see you're a member of the Crimson Flame." Diana had at once observed a flame shaped pin on the label of the young woman's coat and deciphered its meaning.

Trevor smile was slight and brief. Diana read his approval as confirmation. However Helene's fear also came into focus. "They've hurt Papa." She blurted. Tears welled in her eyes. Steve found a clean white handkerchief in his pocket. Helene dabbed her eyes.

"Senator Armstrong has been struck down with a heart problem." The Captain added.

Diana recalled that news.

"It's not like that Captain Trevor." Miss Armstrong declared. "It's not natural."

Diana had already drawn this conclusion. She asked any way for appearances sake. "Helene, do you think the Crimson Flame is somehow to blame?"

"Oh yes." The young woman nodded. She was emphatic. "Papa refused to have anything to do with the Crimson Flame, he forbade Mother from joining me at the Temple, refused the Order's invitations... There's no doubt about it Father was stricken because he wouldn't let me attend any more meetings."

Steve Trevor lent forward in his seat. "There it is Diana, Helene and her mother would like this matter investigated. Colonel Darnel has kindly directed Miss Armstrong to my Office."

Diana nodded. Steve really meant his boss had kicked this down the ladder to him. Now it was his turn. His expression shouted to Diana – there's a war on! Axis spies to catch! _More_ important things to be done.

Captain Trevor continued. "However the order does not allow single men to attend it's meetings, and I thought..." Steve paused. "I thought you'd be interested in this kind of thing."

Diana smiled thinking how he really meant that she was a little bit weird, hence a good fit for this."

"Of course Captain Trevor, I'd be delighted to help."

Diana was far from idle in the intervening hours. Wonder Woman foiled a bank robbery, and later visited an Orphanage. There she reminded the children to recycle waste paper, to collect newspapers, and of course those worthless old comic books for the war effort. Wonder Woman also appeared in New York to promote the sale of War Bonds, and Diana Prince fulfilled her secretarial duties at the Pentagon flawlessly.

Come the night of the next meeting of the Crimson Flame. She and an unwilling but dutiful Captain Steve Trevor shared a car to the Connecticut Avenue address.

"You will need me. I must sponsor you, otherwise you won't get in." Helene had told them.

Diana had expected Miss Armstrong to meet them at the old Theatre, that the Crimson Flame had adopted as their meeting place. However Helene Armstrong was not to be see. Instead on arrival they had been recognised and invited in. Steve asked this older woman about Helene.

"I haven't seen Miss Armstrong for some time." The Woman told him as she greeted the evenings supplicants. "However I do have you both on my list, at her recommendation. So pleased you are able to join us tonight."

Diana saw nothing but sincere joy in the older woman's face. She was at least convinced her beliefs were true.

They were directed inside, and Steve chose a couple seats at the front of the small theatre. The music hall had be transformed into a meeting place for the Crimson Flame, and all in all the stage suited the ceremonial services theatrical beginning. Rich red velvet curtains swept aside silently to reveal pentacle of young women, who rose from the floor in their skimpy flowing costumes. At once Diana felt nostalgic for home, and yet at the same time she found herself suppressing a desire to laugh. As graceful as these dancers were, as elegant as the music played by the unseen pianist, these disciples to her eyes still danced like awkward young children. Oh how they lack discipline Diana thought, and a firm hand – proper training in the art of movement.

She noted that Steve Trevor was however very impressed with the display. He crossed his legs, his cap placed on his lap. Diana noted the predictable male response with anthropological interest. As amateurs by Themysicra's criterion these girls were good enough to impress both Steve and the wider audience, men and women. Then again their dancing was the equal of similar acts she had seen on the last occasion she had visited the movie theatre. Again she reflected that Amazon standards were much higher than Hollywood Musicals, and while she had enjoyed herself watching the general clowning around, well that was how her mother would have described it, she should as Steve liked to say – cut them some slack. They were doing their best.

The dancing came to a climatic ending, coinciding with crashing cymbals and bursts of flame. Diana's keen senses smelled stage pyrotechnics. Then something quite different occurred, first the lights dimmed, then two bare chested men, wearing long loin cloths in the middle eastern style entered carrying between them something resembling a flattened golden bowl. From this burst into life a searing Crimson Flame.

At once the dancing acolytes fell to their knees, waving their hands and bodies in a serpentine dance. From beneath the stage came the vibrant sound of a heavy bass drum. They swayed to it's mesmerising beat.

Diana felt the tendrils of the magic begin to touch her mind, and it was with Amazon Mental discipline she erected a wall between her mind - both conscious and unconscious, and the flickering Crimson Flame's light and rhythm.

Beside her Steve Trevor was already entranced. Acting was an art form she had mastered as a small child, and Diana pretended to be like him, one of the mesmerised crowd.

The Crimson Flame became a human torch, a face from which a slow masterful voice emerged.

"I am the Crimson Flame of Life. I burn within the breasts of all who obey me. Whoever opposes me shall be consumed. So shall I be the Crimson Flame of Death to my enemies."

The voice continued echoing through the room, on one level it told the congregation that they were brave, successful and attractive. Subliminally the same voice whispered obey me, obey me.

Diana decided that this cult could be very dangerous.

What obedience did the Flame demand, what tasks did the cult give its members.

After she had said her goodbyes to Steve, the Captain was free to pursue the mystery of what had become of Helene, beginning with a visit to the Armstrong household where the young woman resided. Diana let him go. Alone in her Washington apartment, she settled down by her Mental Radio – a device shaped not unlike a small wall clock in the guise of a temple. She extended her mind across to Salem, Massachusetts, in the knowledge that Doctor Fate's magic crystal viewing sphere was able to receive the Amazon signal.

In the darkness of the tall tower that was Kent Nelson's base of operations a female voice answered.

Diana concluded her Justice Battalion colleague was still visiting the Eastern Front. Reconnaissance for the President. This snippet of information worried her, but Diana was adept enough not to permit this thought to reach Kent's wife. Inza was not without her own skills in matters occult. She answered Wonder Woman's inquiry.

"The Crimson Flame." Inza began. "Yes Kent and I discussed looking into this new religion. I have his notes – yes, here it is. Led by a High Priestess called Zara, who is based somewhere in the deserts of North Africa. The cult was adopted by certain notable escapees from Nazi Europe, who seem to pick up the Crimson Flame's teachings, as they passed through Casablanca on their way to Lisbon and America."

Diana relayed the images and experience of the Crimson Flame's rituals to Salem. At once Inza saw them replayed in the mystic crystal sphere. She gasped with their intensity.

"That is disturbing." Mrs Nelson agreed. After a pause Inza said."Okay Diana, I'll attend one of their meetings in Boston, and we should ask Doctor Occult to make similar inquiries, as he is still in Los Angele with Alsos, and so on. That way we'll learn whether this mesmerism is something special to Washington, or more widespread."

Ending her conversation before Inza became too exhausted with the mental effort of using the mystical sphere, Wonder Woman then left Diana Princes Apartment in a blur of invisible movement. Moments later she had crossed Washington DC. Steve Trevor was startled by her arrival, but ever the intelligence officer he recovered quickly.

He was leaving the exclusive Washington Address of Senator Armstrong. Helene's father.

"Hey beautiful. Am I glad to see you." He said with his trademark smile. "I have a hot potato for you my hot potato." He joked leaning on the olive fender of Army car he'd taken.

"Really?" Wonder Woman sighed. "What's the problem Steve."

"It's Helene Armstrong."

"Yes Senator Armstrong's daughter – ah, Diana Prince told me she was in trouble."

"More than that Wonder Woman. She's missing, and the news has caused her father to suffer a second heart attack. God only knows where she is."

"When did she go missing."

"Shortly after meeting with Miss Prince and myself on Tuesday." Steve replied.

"That was forty eight hours ago Steve, she could be half way across the world by now."

"Really?" The Army Captain asked.

"Call it Wonder Woman's intuition."

-'S'-

Superman found himself falling. In a moment of desperation he strove to fight back. Wotan's presence was strong over Leningrad, and the plight of the besieged citizens of the former St Petersburg was desperate. For many months they had struggled. Close to starvation, under constant bombardment from the aggressor, Hitler's ambition was determined and absolute, this city would be his. Her jewels were stolen, her body stripped of her finery. Thieves in grey stole the city's treasures; paintings, objects de art, furnishings. All carried back to Berlin. This fabulous legacy of Czarist Russia ruined. On Hitler's express orders, Catherine Palace, Peterhof Palace, Ropsha, Strelna, Gatchina, Palaces and other historic landmarks that lay outside the city's defensive perimeter were looted and then destroyed.

The visible consequences pillage left a broken city scape, but this was nothing as compared to the cost in blood.

First descending from the thin cold air of the stratosphere, the Man of Tomorrow swept downward to the city held in thrall by the forces of the Nazi war machine. Absent from the real world for so much of the previous year, trapped in the bubble that was Lost Atlantis, the American Icon, the adopted scion of Freedom had been ignorant of the so very desperate plight of these Russian innocents. Proud but poor under the illiberal tyrant Stalin, now his people were subject to a regime who had no sympathy for the indigenous Slavic population. To the National Socialists, these comrades of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics were the undermensch.

At first his lightning descent was controlled, followed by thunder and moments later an explosive crash.

It was in the atmosphere above the city that Superman was enveloped in the pervasive effects of evil magic. Dark power invisible to his incredible senses assaulted him.

Clear in his memory was the explanation given to him by Doctor Occult. "Wotan is poisoning not only you, but the world. - "That is his power – his poison; this is the sphere of Wotan's influence, his energies permeate the conquered territories, and Germany itself, just as the Nazi soldiers control these areas."

Superman understood the besieged city was disputed territory. According to Doctor Occult's analysis Wotan's evil Kryptonite charged Magic influence would be proportionately reduced.

His Commander in Chief had asked him to undertake this mission. Given the circumstances Superman did not hesitate to put himself in harms way.

The reality of this struggle between opposing invisible spheres of influence was made very real to him as Superman smashed into the ground. This was the Astral War as Wonder Woman had declared it.

Superman found his ability to control his mass curtailed. This was not a graceful landing, at home where freedom reigned Superman alighted the pavement as a gently as a falling feather. In the middle of this battlefield the Man of Tomorrow struck like a two hundred and fifty pound shell. He emerged from the blast hole angry. Aware like his strength, his senses were also dulled. The world seemed to lack colour and depth. Yet at the same time the earth had gained substance, and it was quiet – too quiet. Instead of thousands of heart beats drumming life's rhythm, distinct from the sound of gunfire and shells exploding far louder, there was few dozen souls, and some raised voices – now whispers in his ears.

"I'm that boy again." He growled, springing to his feet, he stared through the mist of broken stone and brick, thinking my hearing, my vision, my ability to fly, all are compromised by the background magical field created by Wotan's Nazi sorcery's sphere of influence.

As weak as a Super-boy, the caped man leapt for cover as a bursting shell fell all too close. He splashed down into snow. Shrapnel fragments stung his body like bee stings. He accelerated, his boots kicking up muddy slush, just faster than a model T ford. He'd been at school in Smallville the last time he'd been this slow if foot, and here and now, he was nowhere near as powerful as a locomotive.

The bodies that greeted him were lean, dirty drawn faces pale behind the smudges, bundled clothing gave the illusion of girth, and any outward signs of gender.

Superman gasped to the guerilla fighters. Pointing at his S shield chest centre. "American!"

"Your Red Flag will get you killed." The answer came back in Russian.

The words were almost prophetic as a bullet slammed towards the Man of Tomorrow fired by distant sniper. Superman grimaced as he snatched it out of the air, like an angry hornet it stung his palm. A small victory that only reminded him of his weakness.

"Still fast enough." He told them. His Russian as excellent as book learning could give a man. Just as an infant had once looked into the growing wombs of his adoptive father's cattle, now Superman could still see the horrors of famine written inside the bodies of these people. Wasting hearts, weakened internal organs, for some of the people he met in the coming hours, even a return to fresh food would come too late.

As he stood in the shadows his suit darkened in colour, adjusting the alien fabric shifted into a variation the healing mode that had first engaged after his battle with Wotan over Berlin.

Running through the broken city a Superman clad in purple and black saw the emptiness in the eyes of traumatised children. Watching from the shadows the Nazi lines where Hitler had sent young Germans to do his bidding in the bitter cold of the Russian Winter. Mud had stopped there machines, dragged down men and horses, and then frozen them both when the ice had come, leaving armour trapped where it stood.

Superman located the house he sought.

In the cellar a group of men and women, in Russia the girls got to fight on the front line with the men against the invaders. Especially here in Leningrad. With them a broad faced man with a generous smile. Superman stepped out of the darkness. His speed and strength still great enough to shame the greatest of acrobats. Still Mike Gibbs managed to hide his surprise well.

"Superman at last." The American OSS agent said with relief. "And in camouflage. How was your trip?" He asked.

"Bumpy – I ran into some propellers on route. At least that's one wave of dive bombers that won't get to bomb our comrades."

Superman knew 'Guerilla Gibbs' from his file. Mike was an expert in Guerilla Warfare, and his brief was to incite Partisans where ever Nazi occupation forces held sway.

Mike took that as a cue to switch to Russian. "Comrades." He said. "Superman has come to help."

The thin faces looked at the Man of Steel. "I hope he is more successful than the last costumed hero your President sent." The speaker had a strong beard, but that was all that was strong about his physical condition, although Superman didn't doubt the metal of his spirit.

"I'll try. I might not be firing on all cylinders here,..."

"Save your excuses Superman. Doctor Fate explained the problems the Nazi Black Magic creates."

Superman frowned. This was his mission from the President. So he asked. "What has happened to Doctor Fate?"

The Russians looked to each other. Their heartbeat faster, it was fear. Fear of what exactly Superman could not tell. He reflected in this siege there was a great deal to strike terror into the hearts and minds of men.

Gibbs shook his head. "That's a question I can't answer."

"What about _Ivan_ – does he know?" Superman asked in English.

"I don't." The gaunt bearded Russian, whom was the senior officer amongst his compatriots, switched to English. "However, it might be, I know a man who does."

"And he'll only talk to you Superman." Gibbs confirmed what Superman had been told in Washington.

"I see." The Man of Tomorrow looked 'Ivan' in the eye. "And where can I meet this friend of America."

The Russian smiled. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, is that not the way of things Superman?"

"If you mean Joe Stalin was Hitler's ally, before the Nazi's invaded, before the United Nations began shipping food and the trucks you need so badly across the North Atlantic, then I guess that much is true."

"We're practical people Superman." Ivan continued. "Are you?"

"Why – _who_ are we talking about?"

"You know him Superman. You've met him, fought with him."

The Man of Steel lifted his hand and beckoned to the Russian. Silently insisting he speak.

"He is called the Supreme Abbot of the order of Red Monks, you know him by his other name."

"Rasputin." The Man of Tomorrow said. "The undead, the Vampire." Thinking, he who holds the Hand of Mars.

-'S'-

Diana Princess of the Amazons ferried Steve Trevor across the Atlantic at several times the speed of sound within the magic bubble of her invisible plane. Wonder Woman swept through the purple portal between worlds first over the waters around Bermuda, emerging in Themyscira, banking across the paradise island before leaving the hidden realm once more. This time Diana piloted the gift of Hermes through to the Mediterranean Sea. Her heart felt heavy.

The pull of the Nazi Magic registered on the thamaturgical level dial, the needle swung towards the red, before easing back as they left occupied Greece for newly liberated North African Coast.

"Casablanca." Steve Trevor pointed to the port, dim in the twilight. He turned and smiled broadly, a twinkle in his eye, as he winked at her.

Diana smiled. The aviator had a child's enthusiasm for flight, for travel and adventure. She did not doubt he harboured as her friend Etta would say a crush on Wonder Woman, even though Diana Prince remained invisible to him as the Plane in which they rode. In turn she held the brave officer in high esteem, admired his dedication. She felt pride in his successes, many, more than not down, to her efforts in either her assumed identity, or as Wonder Woman. Steve Trevor was a good ally, even if his loyalty lay with America always. As an officer in Military Intelligence's Office of Strategic Services he opened doors that as Wonder Woman she would otherwise be forced to kick down. Diana did love the tussled haired blond flier, as much as an Amazon could, and therein was the rub. Steve Trevor while wise enough to defer to her strength, and special knowledge, remarkable given he remained a man of his time and place. As he smiled at her Diana saw him through Amazon eyes; as a man he was doomed forever to be a child. Wonder Woman could love, nurture and protect – _mentor_ Steve Trevor into a more progressive feminist, mould him into the wisdom of Athena, but this distinction would remain. Although still young in years, Diana was blessed with wisdom beyond that measure. Yes Athena's gift empowered her thoughts, but more than that her childhood had been spent learning from, listening, watching, observing, her sisters; women with thousands of years of collective wisdom.

She could not, but love Steve Trevor, but as _mere man_ he would be forever a child in her eyes, even when in due time his corn coloured hair grew white with age, and death took him. Even as Diana smiled back at her little boy, she felt a deep sense of sadness for the so short lives lived by those born into Man's World.

-'S'-

Al Pratt was another soldier. The US armoured Column pressed through North Africa. Like his Justice Battalion Colleague Wesley Dodds, Pratt had been placed in the thick of it. Riding with the mechanised armour, the short stocky man had been with the American Tank Corp as General "Monty" Montgomery, another man short in stature but long in courage and fortitude had led the British into Italian Tripoli liberating the city from the Fascists. A mad dash that had taken allied forces 1300 miles across North Africa chasing the Desert Fox Rommel. Next would come the battle for Tunisia. The Mighty Atom was up for the fight. At last America was taking the war to the Axis.

-'S'-

Lois Lane balanced a Martini in her grasp as she listened to the piano player. He'd struck up a now familiar tune. The song of the moment, and especially here - the place.

You must remember this  
"A kiss is just a kiss  
A sigh is just a sigh  
The fundamental things apply  
As Time Goes By.  
And when two lovers woo  
They still say, 'I love you'  
On that you can rely  
No matter what the future brings  
As Time Goes By."

"Here's looking at you kid." Lois said tipping her glass towards the demure blonde beside her.

Libby Lawrence smiled. "I haven't seen it yet."

"Really?" Lois replied, thinking, even so as a voice of popular culture you know enough to recognise the film's memorable tune. "I just thought Bogart and Ingrid Bergman would be your kind of thing."

Lois wasn't really sure quite what was Libby's kind of thing, but she thought a guess might persuade the all American beauty to spill. Truth was Lawrence close up and personal was unlike her popular persona. Lane was puzzled by quiet reserve of this other American Woman here in the bar of the Anfa Hotel in Casablanca, January 24th 1943.

"I've been awfully busy of late." Lawrence replied. Her diction was very precise. The quality of her voice was distinctive, and easy on the ear. Still Lois reflected, dulcet tone is required for Radio. Elizabeth Lawrence had first achieved fame by winning the American Intercollegiate Girls Athletic Tournament. She'd made headlines escaping across four countries before leaving England for America. Hence this shy and retiring young lady contradicted Lois's expectations.

However Libby had become a household name – a recognisable voice on the radio; "Men and Women of America! You must choose now, shall it be tanks, guns and planes – or chains?" They'd been strong words, delivered with passion. Yet here in person she seemed altogether less formidable – less passionate. A cold fish. Lois's gut recognised something of the Clark Kent about Libby Lawrence. It was an observation she mentally filed away for future reference.

The day was cool, but not cold. Metropolis had been deep with snow when she'd left America to report on the North African Campaign. She wondered if the War's first female correspondent, Life's Margaret Bourke-White, might join them. She had been torpedoed by a U-boat in the Mediterranean the previous month while on board a British ship transporting troops and nurses to North Africa.

Of course Casablanca didn't see that kind of winter. Hardly unsurprising situated on the North African Coast. The Vichy French Protectionate of Morroco had fallen to Allied Forces under Patton the previous November. Now not yet two months later the President of the United States and the British Prime Minister had come to Anfa Hotel. The purpose of this meeting of minds - how best to defeat Hitler?

This would be the fourth meeting between the Leaders, who now looked east to a new ally in Stalin's Soviet Union, as Hitler turning against his erstwhile friend had united Nations against the Axis.

Naturally Lane was here on behalf of the Daily Star, other news organisations had sent their own correspondents. Not that any of them knew what was going on. That said it had to be big, given the heavy security around the hotel and surrounding district. Libby Lawrence was here for the same reason. She had spied the son of Harry Hopkins, FDR's close aide.

Lois counted herself lucky to be included in the Press detail. Shortly the word came, and just before noon on the bar emptied. They were ushered by the military attaches into the Anfa's garden overlooking the Atlantic, where in very informal style, under the palm trees the British Prime Minster Winston Churchill sat alongside the President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Churchill's signature Cigar sending up it's own version of smoke signals. As the President spoke Roosevelt introduced the signature phrase for this conference. "The elimination of German, Japanese, and Italian war power means the unconditional surrender by Germany, Italy, and Japan."

Churchill spoke afterwards, eloquently as always. It was with a wry smile and jaunty wink that he acknowledged Lois and Libby in the pack of press hounds. Lane was sure he remembered her. Who could forget that fateful night when Wotan had attacked. Then Lois recalled that Libby too had been introduced to the Prime Minister, after escaping from Europe, shortly before her return to the States.

"We are still in full battle, and heavy action will impend." The cherub faced leader's deep distinctive voice announced. "Our forces grow. The Eighth Army has taken Tripoli, and we are following Rommel—the fugitive of Egypt and Libya—now wishing, no doubt, to represent himself as the deliverer of Tunisia. The Eighth Army has followed him a long way—1,500 miles—from El Alamein where I last saw them, now to Tripoli. And Rommel is still flying before them. But I can give you this assurance- everywhere that Mary went the lamb is sure to go."

As the Press was escorted from the garden, herded back in the Anfa Hotel Lois thought about the wolf packs of the Atlantic, she thought of the Desert Fox Rommel, and the wider conflict.

She wondered why the Russian leader Stalin had not attended, and what this might mean?


End file.
